moments

the truth about the lines on my neck

She asked me once about the lines on my neck. I know they're there, but I often forget that most others don't have those marks, those indents. She joked, "Are they there because of the chokers you wear?". I laughed.

"No, they're from doing this too much," And I made a funny face which gave me the appearance of having a double chin, making the lines more obvious. I was joking, but I never explained what they're really from.

I was a clumsy kid. Constantly tripping on whatever was (or wasn't) in my way. Rocks, branches, shoes, doors, clothes, books, even my own feet became a hazard when walking. I was also a shy kid, keeping to myself. These two combined lead to being someone who keeps their head down. In every room, hall, store, park, beach, always looking down to keep my feet from tripping and my eyes from locking with someone else's. I don't usually need to look up to see where I'm going, I can see feet and walls and doors and nearly any other obstacle that could interrupt my path before I bump into it. I never needed to look up, never wanted to look up. I could just block the world out and walk. That's where the lines are from, a life of looking down. I've never explained this to her.

Today, in the halls we stood talking, about anything or nothing at all; we were just enjoying each other's presence. She kissed my hand as usual and made some nice remark and we started to go our separate ways. Then, I heard her voice.

"I love you."

And I looked up.