Moving On - Part 4

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Monique looked in the mirror, checking her hair. Several strands fell across her face, giving her a harried look. A few attempts at replacing them failed. She blew out a breath and tried to smile but the woman in the mirror appeared more than disappointed; she was downright sad.

"Hey, Mo...I'm going to the drug store; did you call them and renew your meds?" No, she hadn't, which usually would have led to ill feelings on her part with herself; the anti-depressants only worked to point, and they were less effective the more negative her self-talk was.

"I'm so stupid." She said as she walked down the hall.

"Now, you know that's not true. What have we been talking about? I'm not upset with you; you're carrying twelve credits at school after everything you've been through this year. Come on, honey; cut yourself some slack." She felt her lover's breath on her neck and the embrace began, soft but strong hands grasping her waist and a nuzzle on the neck.

"Stop...staaahhp." She protested but her heart wasn't in it even as her back felt the warmth of another body next to her own.

"Okay, but you don't know what you're missing."

"I do...that's why you need to stop." She laughed as their bodies parted.

"I can pick up those barrettes you wanted; I think they've got a whole display by the entrance.

"I should have done that yesterday when I was out."

"You mean when you went to the doctor's and got the results? Honey, there's only so much you can remember. I'm just happy you're doing better." A sob came from behind and she turned to see eyes filled with grateful tears.

"I've been worried sick over you the last few months; this is great news, and I'm so happy that you're going to be around to bless my life." The same strong hands that gripped her only moments ago grasped her face gently as a kiss came to her softly, lip-gloss and salty tears mixed together.

"You've been taking care of me for so long; when do you get a rest?" Monique asked.

"Seeing you here, safe and whole and well is rest enough." A quick kiss on the cheek with a squeeze against her body before parting.

"You have anything at the cleaners while I'm out?"

"Oh, damn, I was right there yesterday and I forgot! I'm such an idiot." She looked into those eyes; eyes like no others, sparkling friendly eyes. Accepting forgiving eyes.

"Would you stop? What were you doing over there? You stopped at the post office; that had to be stressful, right?"

"Yeee...yes."

"The letter from Belinda had to be distracting at the very least, right?"

"She still refuses to let me see the kids.... God, that is so unfair." Her own tears began to fall, many landing not on the floor or her robe, but on soft caring gently hands that caressed her cheeks.

"What did Carter say...I bet you've got a real good case, right? And we knew she'd pull that. She's scared and you're trying too hard. It'll work out, honey, but you have to stop blaming yourself."

"I'm not healthy enough, that's what her lawyer is telling her." Monique leaned against the wall and folded her arms, hugging herself.

"Hey....that's my job." As if she were taking on even more. She felt her arms being unfolded and hand placed on her chest.

"NO....not there...not there..." She began to sob, the accepting embrace serving not as a comfort, but as reminder of her lack. Her body was slowly turned as the robe became undone, each button, one by one.

"No....I....you....I'm ugly,” She protested through her sobs.

"You're beautiful."

"I'm the ugliest woman in the world!" Her sobs shook her body and the embrace.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world," A soothing comforting voice, words interrupted only by soft kisses on her chest.

"NO...they...."

"Yes....they're beautiful to me." She shook from anger at her lack....she waited too long to get help....it's not supposed to happen to girls like her, she had heard.

"If I'd gotten help sooner," She accused herself, just like every other morning on every other day.

"You saved yourself...you're here and you're healthy and you're mine, and I love you."

"Why do you love me? I'm incomplete...I have nothing for you. I have nothing....I am nothing."

"You're everything I've ever wanted...I don't need anything else....I don't want anything else." A hand reached up and touched her hair.

"OH, please no....no..." Sobs screamed softly in protest.

"No....noooooo."

"I love you!"

Words spoken softly only to be proven loudly as the hands pulled the wig from her head, revealing soft downy stubble, darker and thinner than she had remembered.

"See....it's coming in just fine....I like the color....it suits you."

Words punctuated by soft kisses on her neck. She felt her feet moving as she was led to the couch. Strong, gentle arms held her and a face against her neck reminded her once again just how beautiful she actually was.

"I love everything about you."

The testimony was borne out by action as her body arched stiffly against the licks and bites and kisses that followed. She had felt condemned, but the advocate proved that her case was weak, and that she indeed was innocent. Not guilty! Moments later she shuddered and it was over....but for the kisses that began once again to caress her tearful face.

"I don't deserve you!" She protested again through her tears.

"I don't deserve you....I never would have believed that I could be blessed with someone so special; so beautiful as you."

Even as she heard the words, Monique looked at her chest...she examined the lack she felt throughout her body; things that worked only partly or not at all. Things she wished she'd been born with but had never been there in the first place. Things that she had that were cruelly taken away by the ravages of unfair disease.

But she looked into eyes that ignored the lack. A child can grow in someone else’s womb... Her breasts still felt.... her body still responded to kisses and caresses and firm but gentle hugs and holds... And her hair was growing once again.

Those eyes that said... I don't care what we've lost. What we've kept is so much more important.

And like a garden, her heart needed to be tended to each day. Weeds of doubt and self-hate needed to be pulled out daily by strong hands that reached in to keep the ground fertile and growing. Too many years of accusation had caused her heart to be overrun; her garden would find itself choked by shouts of "no good,” and "liar." Voices screamed every day..."You're not real!"

But those eyes reminded her that she had someone who tended to her fears and doubts with great care. She still saw herself as a boy, even after all those years; her lover saw her as the most beautiful woman ever beheld. It was taking time, and a great deal of loving care, but with her lover's devotion, she was moving on to the life they wanted.

Next: Darren's Story



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Comments

Neat

Loved the dance around the identity of 'lover'. Read what one likes into it!

what was lost vs. what was kept.

"Those eyes that said... I don't care what we've lost. What we've kept is so much more important." wonderful stuff hon.

DogSig.png

Moving On - Part 3

Monique has a best friend and lover in the same person.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

So Many Mysteries

littlerocksilver's picture

'Drea,

I love the way you dance around the subjects of your stories. We don't know for sure until the end that Monique had transitioned somewhere in the past. Although she does mention 'girls like her' a bit earlier. Until that point, her relationship with Belinda could have had several possibilities. Of course, it might still.

Monique is the victim of breast cancer. Men, transitioned/ing or not, can get it. It happens more frquently than many are aware.

The mystery, and maybe it's only a mystery because I choose to treat it that way, is Monique's partner. I think her partner is a very loving man who accepted Monique as the woman she was before the cancer struck, and has stayed with her because he loves her. Monique is going through the same doubts and guilt that any woman would who is struck by this horrible disease.

The regrown hair tends to come in rather curly. It might be very cute.

Another beatiful story, 'Drea, whether or not I got it right.

Portia

Portia

I agree

ALISON

,with Portia on this one----she has said it all.For me,all I can say is thank you once again,'Drea.

ALISON

Soulful, Tearful, Hurtingly and Breathtaking.

I see cancer all the time. I loved the dancing around the identities and such simple care and love shown of this snippet of this persons life. I got misty eyed for them both and this is just the beginnings? I loved it.

Bailey Summers

It's so hard to believe we're worthy...

Ole Ulfson's picture

Even when we're whole. How hard must it be to be positive when we've lost what we've worked so hard to attain. How to be accepting of love when we've been sick unto death fighting a disease that takes so much from us? Sob!

Having a loving partner is the only salvation,

Ole

We are each exactly as God made us. God does not make mistakes!

Gender rights are the new civil rights!

Beautiful.

Beautiful.


I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair