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For the second time today you make my heart soar, my lovely friend. You have brought tears to my eyes-for I saw what you saw, too. I feel guilt in my stares, in the imagined stories I see painted all around me. That night I was too busy drowning my sorrows in a wine glass to notice much of anything beyond IsM's impish face.
I remember the woman of whom you speak. I remember the bouffant-haired girls - particularly the dark haired. Standing awkwardly in the bathroom foyer, face to face, woman to woman. Polar opposites in the world, she and I had a moment so close that we mirrored one another's sadness. I almost wanted to reach out, but you cannot touch. You must peer out of your eyes, averted so as not to get caught. Eyes are your only tool and ally in the life long search for connection. It was so exquisite, so amazing, so awkward. I breathed relief when Not Afraid came in to break the crushing closeness in that little space.
It is a great gift to be able to truly see people, and your gift is inspired subtlety. Maybe the next lesson of the Body Image thread is for people to write about one another's beauty with eyes that see like yours do. We're all beautiful and perfect.
Thank you
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