I was beaten and broken with no aspirations to better my current situation.
Maybe she understood how I felt, considering all the pain she felt herself, and decided to get to know who I really was under this cocoon of emotionless insecurity.
She smiled at me with that cute, adorable smile I have grown to know and love and headed out.
After climbing Burger King's corporate ladder, I had finally attained the position of regional financial manager for the entire state.
I asked her if she'd like my number as the session ended, and she consented. If I wanted to sit and stare at a wall, I would have stayed home. She told me that the cancer was entwined with her lineage, dating back as far as the eighteenth century; therefore, in numerous fits of emotional rage, her ex husband blamed her for giving the children cancer and left.
I walked into the event, trying to display the shred of confidence I had left.
She found that so romantic and flew into my arms, screaming yes to the skies. I moved out of my shitbox apartment and into her home.
I always admired the cozy feel of her two bedroom ranch house. As I was moving my final things in, I noticed how much of a mess I was making, with my boxes of stuff and all.
I sensed a thread of compassion intertwined between all that stress and trauma, willing to lend an ear to anyone that felt the same pain as her. Apparently she used to be a regular at another pool hall by her old house, winning local tournaments and making a name for herself, and she wanted to check out the scenery here.
I was truly transfixed by her presence, drawn to her character. I wasn't too shabby at the table game myself, so I was excited.I was instantly discouraged when I saw all the other competing males and their Armani suits, high class whiskey in hand, and auras reeking of nothing but pure self esteem and conceit.