In the shadows is where I found him. Home from work. Grimy clothes, and foul scents of a turbulent street. There was a quiet dignity about him. In a crowded room you could pick him out instantly, attach yourself to his side and listen on every word. Ambitious words. A humble man. low key radiant persona.
Pitch black hair, almond eyes. a face so intense it sometimes haunts me. Square jaw, cheekbones so high they stared at the stars. My first love was my father. I kept it to myself, always. Never one to exclaim it loud and proudly. I tucked him in my heart and watched from far away.
My dad. Always the answer. Never a pause.
My mother was the one who stayed home with me everyday. She was the one who took me to the park, sang me songs, braided my hair, kissed away all the bruises. My mother was the one who introduced me to poetry, theater, abstract art, culture. She taught me the alphabet, she taught me to play piano, taught me to stand up for myself. Taught me to give the middle finger to anyone who wants to challenge my happiness.
I was so enthralled by him. Captivated. My father I never quite knew. When I woke up he was gone, and every night before I fell asleep I would play out in my head everything I wanted to say to him. He intimidated me to no end. That was the first time I was uncomfortable with love. The first time it hit. I loved him so much I didn't know how to express it.
He called me his little bear.
I am a bear.
My father was the first person I was enthralled with. The first man I loved. A beautiful face that never quite matched his heart.
My mother was the one who introduced me to real love. A love without shame.
Pitch black hair, almond eyes. a face so intense it sometimes haunts me. Square jaw, cheekbones so high they stared at the stars. My first love was my father. I kept it to myself, always. Never one to exclaim it loud and proudly. I tucked him in my heart and watched from far away.
My dad. Always the answer. Never a pause.
My mother was the one who stayed home with me everyday. She was the one who took me to the park, sang me songs, braided my hair, kissed away all the bruises. My mother was the one who introduced me to poetry, theater, abstract art, culture. She taught me the alphabet, she taught me to play piano, taught me to stand up for myself. Taught me to give the middle finger to anyone who wants to challenge my happiness.
I was so enthralled by him. Captivated. My father I never quite knew. When I woke up he was gone, and every night before I fell asleep I would play out in my head everything I wanted to say to him. He intimidated me to no end. That was the first time I was uncomfortable with love. The first time it hit. I loved him so much I didn't know how to express it.
This is weird. What is this? How am I supposed to be? I don't want anyone to see me like this! No. No. No.I had such a hard time dealing with my emotions that I just kept to myself. (I still do with people I love) I would stay up in my room waiting for him to come home. When he did I would stand by the doorway, peeking out, looking on as he ate dinner my mother reheated. She would smile and point in my direction. I hear his voice to this day telling me to come sit with him while he eats. I would. Sit, sit quietly, sit like a lady. Don't make any sudden movements. He would tuck me into bed.
He called me his little bear.
I am a bear.
My father was the first person I was enthralled with. The first man I loved. A beautiful face that never quite matched his heart.
My mother was the one who introduced me to real love. A love without shame.