Character Work

I learned the truth at seventeen
That love was meant for beauty queens
And high school girls with clear skinned smiles
Who married young and then retired
The valentines I never knew
The Friday night charades of youth
Were spent on one more beautiful
At seventeen I learned the truth...

There are many things that I have come to accept in this life, the first of which is that I will never be loved. Now I'm not talking about motherly love, or the kind of caring you get from a sibling or a friend, those platonic relationship I have, albeit only a few. What I always wanted as a girl was the movie love. The "kiss in the rain" kind of love that sweeps you off your feet. I am all too aware that no person on this earth would risk breaking their back to pick me up like that. As a teen I had a sliver of hope for the future, for my hormones to even out and to finally get the body I always saw on magazines and on television. Lose the baby fat, and in its place earn the curves of a "real woman." Instead my shoulders became more broad, my cheeks larger until I realized it was fruitless to think I could be like one of the tiny women who are oh so happy with their lives.

They all got married, all the girls I went to school with I mean. They were not all dainty and feminine but none of them were as large and not in charge as I was. They all had something about them- Marci was slim and pretty and always kind, Gayle was a brilliant leader and a sparkle in her eye. I, on the other hand, had nothing but the title of arm wrestling champion ten years running. That is not something most men look for in their women where I come from. Oh, sure they always say that want a girl who can shoot a gun, strip a deer carcass, and take care of herself but they don't realize that women don't do that in booty shorts with chicken arms.

Enough of my complaining, you know this already. You know that life is unfair to those who do not fall into the box of pretty so I don't need to explain it to you- that would be wasting both of our times. Now where was I... oh love. The men in my town on the edge of no where are shallow begins. They like their girls tiny and in the kitchen. They want a kiss and a beer when they get home from work and that's it. That is where I get a little wiggle room. See I'm not very good at the stereotypical girl stuff- nails, hair, arts and crafts of any kind, interior decorating, handling large knives without cutting off a finger and having to rush to the hospital to have it reattached. Wait. Don't talk about that last one or I'll make you regret it. Any hoo, I'm better at things that would be considered "manly." I hunt, I work in plywood at a lumber mill hauling four by fours all day and getting sawdust under my nails for the rest of time. I'm basically one of the guys and that's okay with me. As long as there is some way I feel wanted. I think feeling loved and feeling wanted are too separate things. Feeling wanted is a necessity in life, but feeling like you are loved (the movie kind of love, remember?) is optional. It does not happen to everyone and I have realized I am one of the unlucky few who drew the short straw. Oh well.

Despite lacking the intimate attentions of a male, I do have some good friends. Dave is a great friend, despite his terrible taste in snowmobiles and other machinery. Like he uses warped blades on the miter saw at the mill, and I have to constantly remind him that they need to be replaced and he always mumbles and continues tearing up his saw. Whatever. Anyway, Dave is a real guy's guy and he's always there to talk to. I see him everyday, I drink beers after work every week. We go hunting and shit all the time. After years of not knowing where I stand in the scheme of things in middle and high school (other than the disgusting freak) it's nice to know where I am with him. He isn't trying to pull a trick on me by speaking with me(Georgie Dallas) or being nice only to copy my English homework (Wallace Assface... okay that wasn't his name but I don't remember what it was and don't really care). Knowing my history with men it's nice to just have a friend who can also lift piles of plywood and is really good at pulling out splinters.

He's been acting a little weirder than normal lately. Not anything big but he trails off when he's speaking and is always flushed in the face. I think he has some sort of virus. I've been subtly suggesting going to the doctor but he hasn't been catching any of my hints. Maybe I'll be more direct next time I see him.

Some people might wallow in this realization but you know what there is better stuff to do. I mean I might have wallowed a bit here but my job is not a full time self pity... er. That's not a word. Anyway, I'm completely content to spend the rest of my days drinking beer at home... by myself... with maybe a visit from one the guys. I'm totally fine. Utterly joyful to... to be alone.

I think.

To those of us who knew the pain
Of valentines that never came
And those whose names were never called
When choosing sides for basketball
It was long ago and far away
the world was younger than today
when dreams were all they gave for free
to ugly duckling girls like me...

I only wanted a hand to hold. I missed that feeling and I found it again in flannel shirts and the smell of campfires. It was nice for awhile, I will admit that. He's a nice guy and he was always kind to me but... but I don't want to be stuck in one place. I don't want to stay in this freaking town for the rest of my life. His family has lived in this stretch of territory a century. That sounds impressive until you realize they have done nothing with all those years besides sell all their land away and open a heater repair shop. Honestly, if I wanted to hear about the mundane events that happened while on the job I would work in something as mind numbingly boring as that. That's really what it came down too. Well, actually, I made a list. Here I'll show you.

The Pros and Cons of Dating Jimmy Houser

Pros:
>He smells nice
>He's nice to look at, got that rugged mountain man thing going on
>Pretty sweet
>Has a cool goldfish
>Let's me wear his flannel shirts sometimes
>Can be funny
>Steady job

Cons:
>Boring
>Have to tell him things at least three times for him to remember
>Not the brightest bulb in the box
>Has this obsession about Law & Order
>Tells the same joke over and over
>Clingy
>Actually very clingy
>Doesn't like traveling
>Allergic to cats okay he can't control that but it is kind of a problem

I might not have a strong enough case for some people but I don't want to be tied down. I want to fly, I want to climb mountains, and meet people from across the world. I want a life outside of these borders. Not that this would be a problem even if I didn't want those things. I didn't start talking to him because I liked him. Well, I did. Kinda. I liked his face and he was sweet and I enjoyed the attention. Eventually the newness wears off and what you're left with is a man who is head over heels in love with you and you feel like a bitch for wanting to leave him. It's not a good feeling and it isn't one I'd like to repeat. I'll be more careful in the future, I won't let someone think I gave them my heart when I still have it under lock and key.

I know now that you can't play with people's hearts that way. I left a scar on him while I walked away unmarred. It may be rude to say, but I'm glad. I'd rather have that guilt now than stayed and become bitter.

Guilt I can live with, a dull meaningless life I cannot.