- Three Kinds Of Fire-Envy, Lust, Wrath.
- Vials Of Green-Greed, Gluttony
- Crystal Sky-Pride
- Sloth, Gluttony, Pride, Greed, Lust, Wrath, and Envy
- Amaranth-Cool name
- Abby Clark-
- Patience-
- Prosperity-
- Sean Adams, Sean McDonald, Sean Johnson, Sean Something,
- Kathleen Baker, Kathleen Hunter, Kathleen Wilson,
- Ethel Barker-USE IT. Its awesome, doesn't matter what, just use it.
Ever since I was a child I have seen this woman, Patience. my imaginary friend. She hasn't aged, even as I grew up. She never wears makeup, or changes her clothes. A white tank top, denim jeans, converse shoes, a red top and a dark blue tweed coat. She's pretty, very pretty.
She gives advice, good advice. Advice I need, like she can read my mind. She's like a separate person, a separate person talking to me.
I need all the help I can get, honestly. I guess that's why I have her, my own advice guru. Like on a television show when the demon and angel are sitting on someones shoulder-telling them what to do.
She's a little to big to fit on my shoulder, so she stands a couple feet away from me. And talks...just talks. She kinda makes up my mind for me.
And whenever I asked her her name, she'd tell me-"Patience"-and after I while I asked,-"For what?!"-
and she said-"You idiot! That's my name!".
When I was in college she went away a bit. Occasionally she came back, convincing me not to go come with guys and keeping me from getting drunk at parties. She was like a strict parent who wouldn't leave their kids alone. I was extremely gratified she helped me. Without her I never would have made it to graduate school, never would have been where I am today, doing post-mortems.
Most people thought it was depressing work, autopies. And it was, except for one things that made it all worth wild.
I remember the day. So clear in my mind. When I first saw him, just him. No one else. Never anyone else. I guess I just never looked at anybody else while he was gone.
He wasn't handsome, or charming, or a sparkly vampire git. He didn't wear nice shoes or expensive Italian suits. He didn't have a slick hairstyle or big gross caterpillar eyebrows. He was just nice, and sweet, every morning he'd make me coffee, (he didn't even have to ask what kind), he just knew. And his smile would make the dull walls a little brighter.
And that was all he was, someone to get me coffee and clean up blood and bile from the autopsy table. Because no matter how much I looked at him, and felt the most wonderful happiness in existence, he never turned his head to look at me.
He didn't have anyone else, he wasn't married or had a girlfriend. If I wasn't so hopeful I'd say he was gay. But I believed was to much in God for that. So while he was around, I never looked at anyone else. Because no one else would bring me coffee, or smile that smile.
Growing up in a reasonably religious house in West Virginia, I had been reasonably religious. Just religious enough to listen to Patience and pray occasionally, but not enough to get down on my knees, pray, and beg God to let Sean notice me. (Did I mention his name was Sean? Damn that's a cute name.)
And I just kept listening, patiencly to Patience's advice. Hoping she would do something other than insult my shoes and my ugly ass hair. She liked to mock me by saying I should dye my hair brown, because (I quote), "All mousy, coward, unrequited love girls have brown hair. Only popular, sexy girls have blond hair." Most of the time when she would insult me this way, she would sit on a the nearest flat serface and file her nails.
(And in all fairness, my hair was dark blonde....almost brown.)
No comments:
Post a Comment