Becoming Me

Chapter One - Shards of Glass

It was a clear night. I sat quietly in the passenger side, listening to the hum of the engine. I said nothing when we dropped him off. I stared straight ahead at the glowing streetlamp, rolling a previous conversation around in my head.

He had stretched himself across my bed, propping himself on his elbow, while I sat straight and gathered one leg under me. Hed looked at me, eyes dancing, grabbed my hand and had a sudden rush of inspiration. "Why don't we just take off? We could go to New Orleans. I know it like the palm of my hand. We could live in the French Quarter. Its the coolest place! All the artists and musicians hang out there. "

My hand in his, gazing into his full of crap eyes, I shook my head with a definitive and resounding "No way in this entire solar system!" tone of voice. Was he insane?! I barely knew him and he wanted me to simply drop everything, traipsing after him into completely unfamiliar territory?! The French Quarter? What was that?!

I say "full of crap eyes " because Im older and wiser now I guess. Nevertheless, at the time I was young, insecure and naïve. Back then, I thought his eyes were beautiful and I could have looked in them forever.

Our first meeting sparked a whirlwind of events. He had swept me up in a crazy romance, knowing I had never been in a real relationship. I had only been on a couple of dates and had never even kissed anyone, much less made out. I wasnt even experienced enough to know that making out and having sex wasn't necessarily interchangable.

I had spent most of my days sheltered under the hand of a controlling and antediluvian grandmother who teetered on the edge of a near prehistoric worldview. I had fought the war for independence most of my life, but the battle for sanity didnt become as poignant until the death of my father. I stood over his grave, staring into the hollow earth and had but two thoughts. "Why did you leave me without saying goodbye?" And "Why did you leave me all alone "

"With her? "

Ten years later, and the event was as clear as the road before us. Things would have been different had my father lived. I gazed out through the dashboard of the rusty old Grand Prix and watched the yellow lines disappear under the spotted hood, turning my head only upon hearing one shocking, but strangely emotionless, utterance. "You might as well shack up with him. I dont know any other woman that would have him or any other man that would have you. "

I stared blankly, as if the woman had suddenly reached out and brusquely slapped me across the mouth. She may as well have done so for what that one long blast of hot air was worth! How could she have said such a thing to me?! Was she truly that spiteful? That callous?

Throughout the years, crosswords had flowed between us like one long restless torrent, violently slicing its way through parched earth. I never meant it to be this way between us In truth, I hated it. I had attempted reasoning with her innumerable times. My words literally fell in mid air. I swear I think I can still hear them hit the floor like shards of glass shattering on impact.

Every time I allowed myself even a sliver of realness in which I poured my heart out, the moment fastly crumbled into a screaming match that sent me fleeing in a flurry of tears, feeling isolated. Then I questioned myself, wondering if I was to blame. Wondering what I had done that was so wrong?

I was a bubbling child, full of energy and laughter. Ill be the first to admit I was challenging as a teenager. I had felt things deeper than anyone I knew, and was in the throws of developing my own unique identity. I could be stubborn sometimes; if I felt I needed to. Perhaps I had opened my mouth on occasion when it was best to keep it closed. As grandmother often reminded me, Children are to be seen and not heard.

I wasnt repulsive in appearance, although there was nothing about me that said supermodel. Brown hair, bulging a little around the waist, and a flat sort of face. I was average at best. I was horrible at sports and academically challenged. I excelled in the subjects that interested me and stimulated my extensive imagination, but seemed nearly handicapped in subjects like math.

I never went out. I had never had a boyfriend. I didnt go to prom. I didnt even know how to drive!

One might have called me lazy, considering that I didnt really help much with housework. Although, even whenever I did try to make an honest effort, everything I did was wrong.

To the outsider, my room must have looked like utter chaos, but I knew where everything was.

The point is, I knew I was not perfect. I knew that in the course of my twenty years, I had made major mistakes! But, neither my lifestyle nor values contained anything that called for such a statement! Shack up with some guy?! I barely even heard the second part of the sentence, the part that pretty much said rather bluntly, "Youre just completely worthless and unacceptable. "

How else could you interpret "No other man would have you? "

For the first time, she had rendered me speechless. She had swiped me with the ultimate sucker punch without ever laying a hand on me. And yet, somehow, the slap in the mouth would have hurt less.

I spent the remainder of the ride home reeling, though I didnt speak a word. I had grown accustomed to that. There came a time, shortly after puberty that I learned to merely shut her out. I learned to grieve, cry and vent in the privacy of my own head.

Living in my own head had become very comfortable.

The grinding of the wheels burrowing into the gravel driveway was louder than usual. I pulled on the door handle, stepped out into the yard without looking back. I approached the freshly painted steps to the back door and felt the aging wood creak underfoot. I opened the door, made my way through the closed in back porch, into the kitchen, past the dining room, through the spacious living room - where Id spent an enormous amount of time watching TV, or gathering around the Christmas tree during the holidays. I turned left, into the narrow hallway and then right, into my bedroom.

I shut the door.

This was enough. I had endured her accusations against him while watching her feign admiration. She fed him as if he were a strapping grandson deserving to be cooed and fussed over. Shed carted him around everywhere because he didnt have a car. Then she turned an about face and complained to anyone who would listen that he was weaseling his way in. That he was somehow wronging her by taking her hospitality for granted. Eating her food and using up her precious gas.

I was too naïve to see what was really going on. He was a threat. My relationship with him could have meant freedom for me. It posed the reality that I might finally have the courage to drag myself from under her thumb. That I might venture out and carve my own way.

This was not an idea she favored much. She would have liked it much better had I remained there confined and dominated by her.

I didnt really stop to think. I didnt consider the finality of what I was considering. No, of what I had already decided on doing. I was consumed by an offense I had never felt before and have never felt since. How dare she treat me as if I were no better than a common piece of trash who had nothing better to do but to sleep around with men? I had never been with anyone - not even him.

You might as well call Audrey from Big Valley a call girl. (I was a huge fan of Big Valley.)

Her words freshly pulsing in my ears, fueling wave after wave of near rage, I snatched my phone up. It was my own line that I paid for from my own money. I yanked the receiver up and I dialed the number. I did not have second thoughts. I did not pause and say, Do I really wanna do this? Should I think about this?


He answered on the other end. "Hello?"

I did not say, "Hey this is Kaylee. "

I opened my mouth and uttered a sentence that would forever change the course of my life ...

"Lets go to New Orleans. "


-- Edited by LionQueen at 16:04, 2007-09-25

I'm looking forward to more.