Alone No More

 Z was the first to see something other than a cracked shell. He was the one who showed me I was MORE... He was the first cheerleader on team me.

 I was the weak nerdy guy most ignored. It took him six months of effort just to get me to look in his eyes. I was a hot mess.

 Seriously, pre-Z, my concept of eye contact was focusing on a facial feature NEAR the person I was talking to's eyes. Or fleeting glances followed by a look to the ground.


  I mastered the plastic smile letting no one near, let alone see beneath the veneer. In the beginning, Z would tickle me until I gave him a genuine smile.

 When we got home we had a serious talk. He was sad to see that plastic smile return in Paducah. He saw the brave boy front. I held on to that fake front so hard. Everyone there had thirteen years to deal with and put mom's death. I have only had a bit shy of two weeks.


 Part of me wanted the happy ending, it never let go of that hope. For thirteen years I had that STUPID hope she would return to my life. Z saw me do something for the first time, mourn. He just held me tight as the tears flowed and I shook for hours. ALL of life traumas poured out of me. As the internal scars were exposed, he just held me wiping away my tears.


 I hid the fact I was molested by a foster brother as well from Z. I was terrified he would let me go. That wall fell today too. Now he knows, and doesn't care. He told me he suspected but didn't want to push. He told me I am a like one of the quilts Paducah is famous for (yes they have a museum). "You are made up of many parts. Some were parts of torn rags. but the result is my beautiful boy."

 Got to get to some sleep. I get to do this again with "Shrinky Dink" in the morning.

-Christopher (Z wants me to try it on. Maybe just Chris)