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It was the only place I really felt like I was at home in. I even built a structure in which to exist when I was younger. It was my fort, my little place away where I was surrounded with life. I've always felt connected with the Earth, always felt more intuned with the darks and deeps of the places beneath the leaves.
The trees outside of my house were tall, old, dense, with more undergrowth than other places in the area, so I could hide as needed. I felt safe there. I felt as though I could survive there. The creek wasn't far and I would go tromping around in the cloudy waters were a copperhead or water mocasin may be waiting for me just beyond the next rock, but I never bothered them, never ran away screaming, I merely acknowledged their existance and moved on. But those woods brought me many joys as a child, sandy beaches on which to lay out and embrace life. But now it all seems so far away.
I've been existing between cities and the country for a few years now. I live, for the most part, in what most people would consider 'a small city' but what I consider a forest of another kind. So many buildings that keep the greater things from growing strong. I miss my trees, I miss their protrection. No small wood will change the great green of my home. I go back to Tennessee every so often but not nearly enough. My mother and I are going to go this summer sometime, we're going to go to Virginia as well, and who knows? Maybe I'll just jump right into life again.
We were in the woods, in out favorite spot. Half buried in the leaves and mud, the CD wrapper from the birthday present I'd given you seven days ago. The electrical tape I'd cut into strips to spell out your name, and a message of love were still intact.
We fought. I don't even remember what about. I didn't give you enough space. I talked too much about you to other people. I was making you hate me. That's right, somehow all of my love was making you hate me.
I'd never felt as good as I had on the trip to meet you that day. I was going to be a senior in high school soon. I had lost all of my baby fat my unlucky loser stress fat, and I could dress up for you however I pleased.
My long back hair, with the underneath shaved, was up in a loosely curled pulled back style. My eyes were defined with black eyeliner, and I had gotten artistic with it on the outside of each eye, drawing artsy lines that went halfway to my ear, I wore a corset, overbust, not a real, waist training one, since I was counting on us running around, but the one I had that was made of four hardend leather plates shaped to my body , laced together loosely. It was iridecent green and blue and purple. You had mentioned often it was your favorite.
I wore my black and purple layered petticoat, the one with the least poof, as I always did on these adventures. With minimal effort I could keep it from snagging, and it didn't get caught under my feet.
Underneath that I wore the fishnets that had regular hosiery filling in all the holes, because I thought them more classy than regular fishnets. Thigh high, with a back lace garter belt and no undies, because these woods were our favorite place to make love outdoors (except you never once called it that, you never called it anything other that 'fucking' or 'sexxing').
We met, and hugged. You called me your little peacock, always showing off what I had. You were dressed gorgeously as well, with your strange shirt that was layers of expensive cloth, the most expensive rag ever made, and your unreasonably flappy pants, with fifty some inch leg widths. Your hair with it's multicolors and multi directions. We were in love with each others appearances, and with our own. It didn't stop there for me, but it did for you.