I don’t question why I am this “Way”.. I used too, though.
I would insanely agonize over my so called “sickness” that’s what “he” called it. That’s what “she” hollered in the numerous high-pitched cell phone messages.
“We love you.We just want you to get help.” “Help for what?” I laughed…
“Is it really the end of the world, because I like belts?”
“Okay, I admit it! I am saving myself from damnation and I wanna go to Heaven! I confess my sins to my Lord and Savior”
(With fingerprint spit tears down my cheeks) I plead. “I wanna be saved”…(on my knees crawling at their feet.)
“Please save me.” (internally giggling)
(Here comes the rant)
“I LIKE BELTS! Well, I LOVE BELTS. Mainly, the thick leather ones, brown, black, blue, red; color’s no issue. Just as long as it is more than an inch thick and 4 inches wide. I like those heavy, heavy belts. Heavy like Boa Constrictors. Heavy like Big Ol’ Man belts. The rubbery feel. The click, clang and jingle of the buckle”… (I moan entranced at the thought)
“AND YOU!” (I shout with pointer finger raised high)…”How can YOU criticize ME?!” (I face jaw dropped faces)
“You come to my house, parading around, like it’s a fashion show, when you already know “I LIKE BELTS”…. Wearing them, tightly around your waists. Gripped in each loop, I sometimes can’t even get my fingers through them.. So tight around you. (you should be shamed). Corrupting me; the way you do, then blame me for not being able to fend you off.”
(With wet, burning, beads of sweat rolling down my neck, I continue)…..
“So big and strong, (it is). Engulfing that part of you, tracking that part of you, tattooing that part of you…
You come here..barely breathing.. Your faces all flushed; cause you can’t breathe…” and
as soon as I remove them (the belts) you collapse in my arms..
“You selfish, stupid, hypocrites!”
“Shit!” I’m saving you…