Jesse's Girl
"...And love dares you to change your ways..."
~Under Pressure, by Queen and David Bowie
The sun warmed my skin, warmed me all the way to my bones. Lying here in the warmth of this August day was a long awaited relief. I could smell the fresh air; feel the soft grass beneath my head. I listened to her voice; it was low as she hummed to herself. I didn't have to ask to know what she was doing; she always hummed while she drew.
"What are you drawing?"I asked lazily, I already knew the answer, but I always asked anyway.
"I'm drawing you." She said simply, and continued her humming. I listened for a moment, thinking about just how wonderful she was. She had been there for me through so much. She was my rock, my best friend.
A car drove by, a ways off. The sound of it being the only thing to remind me we were in the park. Coming back to reality, I asked another question I'd asked a hundred times before;
"And what do you see?" Even though we had repeated the same conversation so many times, it was something I would tire of. It was a tradition, a pattern we had, and it was these kinds of patterns, and normalcy's that I now lived for. She was silent for a moment; I could tell she was thinking of a clever answer.
"A man, who should really get out of that stuffy apartment more often. A handsome man who- has grass in his hair." With a giggle, she leaned over me and ruffled my always messy, over-grown hair. She smelt like strawberries, and I found myself thinking that all women should smell like that. A moment later, she was gone, taking her Strawberry-vanilla sent with her. I couldn't help but frown slightly. I covered this up my quickly saying something, so she wouldn't notice my disappointment.
"You're right, as always, I do need to get out more often. This is so nice..." I let my voice trail off, not feeling the need to even finish my sentence.
"So why don't you?" She almost mumbled it, and I knew she was sad. I didn't leave the house much, since the accident. I had only met her the year before this one, so she didn't know about that. I didn't want her to know about what happened, I had been a different person than, and I didn't want her to think of me differently. I considered telling her the truth for the thousandth time, and like every other time, decided against it. I went with a much-used answer,
"Because I'm bind Rachel, and I don't like it when I can feel people staring at my scars."
I felt her very close all of a sudden; she took my hand quietly and held it for just a second, before giving it a squeeze and getting to her feet.
"That's a lie Jesse, you always say that." I could hear the frustration in her naturally soft voice, and she was right.
"I don't understand how you can be so unhappy. Sometimes..." She trailed off.
"What?" I asked, sitting up.
"Nothing, I just wish you would be honest with me, and.... You have no reason to be unhappy."
Upon hearing this, something in me shifted, I was angry and on my feet in half a second.
"I AM BLIND! BLIND RACHEL!" I bellowed, hearing my own voice echo in the empty park.
"I have to wake up every morning and remember that I can't see. I can't see this park, "I motioned around us with my hands.
"I can't even see the woman I love." I said this much quieter; this was something else that wasn't new to either of us, I used to tell her I loved her all the time, and some part of me knew she loved me too, in whatever way she could. She never acknowledged my words however; she'd just laugh them off, or ignore me completely. After a while, I stopped saying it as much.
