She loves the back roads. They're the fastest way to any place that anyone ever needs to go. She knows them well and she's proud of that. It comes with the territory of growing up in small town America and she's proud of that too. The sky is so blue. It's warm but there's such a nice breeze.
It feels so damned good out here, driving with the windows down and the only sounds heard are the amazing chords of Led Zeppelin's "Kashmir" coming from the speakers of her car. There's no traffic, no chaos, nothing hectic. It's so peaceful and she loves it. There is absolutely nothing but trees, fields and some wild flowers that make the ground look like it's covered in a blanket of purple. Truest beauty is in the simplest things.
Driving these roads is where a lot of her thinking is done because it's so pretty and peaceful. Mostly she thinks about where she's from, her experiences so far, and who she is.
Really, she's just a girl.
Why is she so sensitive?
She thinks about when she was a little girl a lot. It probably started there. She was very shy, often timid, and so scared of the world for a while that it was kind of strange. Her mom was everything to her and she was literally glued to her side. She couldn't leave her anywhere except with her grandma and grandpa or there were tears until she walked back in the door. The days she was left at daycare? Those were the biggest torments ever...and she was that kid, the one the teachers didn't want to deal with because she was inconsolable.
Her mom could either take that little girl with her everywhere she went or leave her at home with grandma and grandpa eating French toast, watching the Price is Right followed by grandma's "stories", and where she was completely and totally at peace. She knew she'd play dress up all day, take walks in the woods to pick violets with grandma, listen to grandpa play Johnny Cash songs on his guitar, and play with the kittens who lived out back even though her eyes would swell shut because she was so allergic. All of these things were pieces of her comfort zone...She just couldn't be left any place that felt weird.
Too many places felt weird.
The other half donor to her life - her father - well, I guess he never wanted her but it was definitely for the best. A shady and rotten heroin-controlled life was more important. Stealing was more important. Being an evil bad man in general was more important. He loved that drug and was ruled by evil that completely and entirely controlled him. Initially though, it was a choice... and it was one that he knew wasn't good for himself or anyone.
Choices. Are. Everything.
It was okay though because when she was around two, her mom swept her up out of all of that darkness like a dove and plopped her right down into the soft brightness where she was untouchable by him or anything associated. She never did miss him. Her only memories of him were bad. He spanked her for taking a candy cane off the Christmas tree once. He scared her with a gas mask more than once. He yelled at her for always wanting to be with her mom. He was a real ass. What was there to miss? Nothing. She had a massive, strong, close-knit family that would always be the very first layer of any strong shell she would ever have. Her mom's family was her collective Guardian Angel and she was gratefully and eternally blessed.
Period. The end.
Why is she scared of losing people? That's probably from her childhood too... it's only logical. By the time she was four she had the most amazing step-dad who loves her as his own to this day. He had the "Dad" title, oh yes. There was never a man more deserving of it. He was the super, amazing, loving, kindhearted, funny, perfect kind of Dad. The older she got, the closer they became. He was another blessing added to the list for that strong shell she was building.
He gave her the best childhood she could have ever had and he helped give her a little brother. That little brother would whoop her butt every time they'd wrestle, crash her slumber parties by hiding and farting under the bed, and tell on her for things just to try getting her in trouble. She didn't care. She was the luckiest girl in the world because she loved that rotten little brother more than anything. He was the funniest creature on the planet and he always, always made her laugh. When he was a teenager, that little brother became her best friend and her biggest, most solid rock. To this day he is the first person she goes to for anything, ever. That childhood, she'd relive it a thousand times if she could...that's how amazing it was. Sometimes she wishes it was a movie so she could at least watch it over and over again and actually, she kind of can do. She has so many pictures and somewhere there's a very old box filled with reels and reels of film that document so many days of her childhood, and they go with a movie projector. Maybe she should find that box.
After 13 years of what seemed perfect and normal, their parents split and it was nasty...It was very nasty for nine long years and they were caught right in the middle of it all. They had a lot of friends with divorced parents where everything was smooth and done the best way possible "for the sake of the kids."
Well...where was their cut of that kind of deal? They weren't so lucky but as always, time heals all and everything did get better.
After fighting over things as big as the sale of the house to things as small as a Tupperware bowl, their parents actually ended up calling a truce out of nowhere and being "friends." Fighting gets exhausting. Well, for as good as that was for the time that it lasted, her Dad made a decision that would change everyone's lives forever when he started walking down the exact same path her father did.
No one understood it.
No one could change it.
No one could help it. Everyone tried.
He was just gone and he never came back. Maybe some day he will. Miracles happen and that's how she sees things but it's been 11 years. She lost him. Being scared of losing people probably really started there.
Maybe.
Why does she love so much, so hard? Well, maybe it's because she feels like the more she loves and the harder she loves, the stronger the chances are that her most cherished people will stay. Maybe it's because that's how she was taught to love; It was all or nothing.
She's always the first one to make someone feel wanted and welcome and she always cares how others are feeling. She's a gift-giver, a surprise-creator and a laugher. If someone needs an ear, a hand, a few dollars, a sass, or even just a hug - she's there. Saying we love someone is amazing because it's the best set of words to hear it but it's most important to show it. It's most important to make those people know without a doubt in their minds that she gave sooo many shits about them; it's probably too many.
Maybe it's because from her own experiences, she knows that love isn't a word, it's a continuous feeling that has zero doubts, ever.
It's a constant comfort, a warmth, a thought that forms a physical smile before it's even realized, it's every bit of goodness in all ways possible for friends, family relationships.
Period. The end.
Why is she kind of a perfectionist? This one is probably the easiest. Nothing is ever really about being perfect, just about being good. Her house...She likes it to be clean because at the end of the day, it's the calm organization of what's probably been a good but hectic morning and afternoon. She's like that at work, she's like that with her car, she's like that with her clothes and she's even like that with her cooking. Really, she's like that with mostly everything. Organization is structure. Structure is stability. Stability is strength. As for appearance; it's representational of who she is and... it's about appreciation. She wants what she has to look nice and stay nice because she works hard for every single bit of it. Finally, all of these tidbits are little ways she can feel an amount of control since there have been so many times when she had absolutely none.
Period. The end. Why is she so hard on herself? This one... is probably the most frustrating. She hates to mess up. Hates it. She hates to let people down. She hates be a pain in someone's ass or get on anyone's nerves. The most uneasy feeling for her is knowing she upsets anyone because she feels like a jerk. Because of that, she's usually the first, and half the time only, one to apologize in a negative situation but that's whatever. She's even apologized when she wasn't even the one at fault but that's whatever too. She's getting better on that because it's ridiculous. Regardless; she's hard on herself because she was taught above all, to take responsibility for her actions. Sometimes that's easy and sometimes it's hard but it always has to be done. Until all dust of any mess is settled, it eats at her. Everything has to be hashed out, one way or another and it always is.
Period. The end.
Why is she a goofball? Well...laughing is literally the best feeling on Earth. Being a happy-go-lucky ding dong in a world so full of negativity kind of balances the scale on her own personal level. She'd go insane otherwise. She can't imagine any days without laughing because that would be horrible. Belting out the lyrics to Led Zeppelin as loud as she can on these back roads with a pasture of cows on the left and the field of purple flowers on the right is her perfect kind of moment on a warm and breezy sunny afternoon. The dude who just laughed at her when they passed each other? I mean, she made him smile so it's contagious, right? Right. Period. The end.