A Rain of Frogs

So, a week off, in which it was hoped some sailing would occur resulted in exactly zero sailing. A week of easterlies resulted in crazy rollers 2-3 meters in height at the west end of Lake Ontario and a daughter in tears.

Stress and a lack of sleep, my constant companions.

But anyway, I’m back, for what that’s worth.

They were rougher with him than one would expect girls to be. Two of them thrust him up against the wall and pinned his arms to his sides, while the third, most aggressive of the three, pressed her body tightly into him.

“C’mon. We’ll make it worth your while.” she whispered against his cheek.

He shook his head, but he could feel the heat of her body against his and it made it hard to think. Hard indeed.

“I don’t want to Jess. Don’t. Please?” he whispered back.

They held his hands tight, wouldn’t let him move while Jess ran her fingernails gently down his cheek. He could feel the raw sexuality radiating out from her young body and he instinctively pushed back against her.

“Please Jess? Please no?” he asked her again. Though it was still a whisper, he was disgusted to hear the desperation in his plea. He felt ashamed, not just because his body was betraying him and dooming him, but for deeper reasons he’d never be able to explain, if he’d even thought about them.

She felt it and leaned closer to him, emboldened by his arousal and his shame. She gently kissed his quivering lower lip, as she reached into the pockets of her leather jacket.

“You’re a doll. A complete doll.” she sighed.

Her friends giggled when Jess handed them the items she had pulled from her pocket. He couldn’t see it, but he knew what they were. They were going to put makeup on him. Jess had promised, but now she was going to make him wear makeup.

Ever since Jess had caught him wearing her clothes and their mother’s makeup when he was eight, she had made it clear she’d never forget, but she’d promised never to tell. She used the secret as a whip, forced him to wear her underwear to school. But had she never told anyone.

He fought back tears, but didn’t move as they painted his face. He was mortified but didn’t struggle when one of them yanked his shorts down, exposing an erection barely contained by the sheer pink panties Jess had forced him into this morning. The snickers and giggles were knives in his heart.

He felt them wrap a school kilt around his waist. His eyes flew open, prompting Jess to grab his face and hold him still while she applied makeup to his eyes.

“Jess, you promised.” he whispered, a last attempt at salvation. The fire in her eyes and the hungry smile on her lips made it clear the effort was wasted.

“You just be a good little girl and do as I say.” she replied sternly.

He gave up. Tears streamed from his eyes, smearing the work Jess had just completed. One slid his pants off his ankles and pulled knee-high stockings up his legs while another clipped his hair back with a pink butterfly hairpin. Finally, after an eternity, they were done.

“You’re beautiful, baby, just beautiful. Let’s go.” said Jess as she snaked her arm through his and pulled him out into the main hallway.

She marched him through the school, past friends and enemies and people he barely knew. Some pointed, others laughed. There were catcalls and whistles. The kilt couldn’t hide his arousal. When he tried to lower his head in shame, Jess pushed his chin back up.

He was confused and broken and devoid of thought, and Jess walked him through his whole life and exposed his secret to the world.

We must not get trapped in a balance between certain unhappiness and uncertain happiness.

Fortune favors the bold.

I sat in the silo, feet hanging over the edge, just as I had countless times before. Amy paced behind me, barefoot and silent.

“Why are you so upset? It’s just a piece of paper, right?” she asked.

I sighed.

“I’m tired of it. Tired of it all. Tired of my mom, tired of school.” I answered.

I heard her sigh behind me.

“Only you can fix that, you know.”

She was flippant and I was serious, an unusual combination. I still felt torn, inside, as torn as the page Jay had ripped earlier in the day. I’d found the bottom of despair and pushed on deeper, only to find more. The simple honesty of her comment finally sheared my last thread of control, and I exploded on her.

“How the hell am I supposed to fix it Amy? What should I do? Beat him up? He’s twice my size! I don’t know how to fight! I don’t want to fight! I just want him to leave me alone! I want them all to leave me alone!’ I screamed.

The sound of my voice echoed through the empty cavity of the silo below the pine planks.

“I just want them to stop hurting me.” I whispered.

She sat down beside me, and looked out across the top of the forest. Just a little girl, a kid, like me, but so wise. She turned her eyes toward me, and they were deeper than the universe.

“So stop them!” she said, “Believe you can stop them. Believe you can make it stop, and then make it stop. Believe in you, Adrian.”

She tossed a pebble out into the treetops. The wind whispered through the holes in the dome of the silo, and made the trees below sigh.

“I believe in you.” she said, finally.

This Atlas is putting down everyone else’s world and picking up his own. Before I fall under the weight, fall down forever.

Father, son, brother, husband, friend, stranger, employee… I’m done.

Done shelving my expectations and hopes and dreams to be the person everyone else needs me to be. Done fitting into the space everyone has carved out for me.

Done digging holes in the landscape of my mind to bury my dreams in.

Done wondering why unconditional love is demanded, but not reciprocated.

I’m tired of the dogma, the judgement, the guilt and the pain. Tired of living somebody else’s life.

This is a brave new world, a world in which other’s expectations of me are tossed aside and I live my life, instead of the life everyone else thinks I should.

I’m done propping up everyone else’s well-being at the expense of mine.

Let’s find out how unconditional unconditional is.

Don’t like it? Go away.