era: 1963
name: luanne
george looked beautiful. truly beautiful. not even handsome like some may put it. beautiful. his eyelashes fluttered in the moonlight, eyes downcast at me. he was hovering above me on our bed, staring down at me.
the window next to us was opened. gentle wind flew into george's face, making his mop-top look silky smooth. "i never knew you had a mole on your ear," he slid a finger up my cheekbone, putting a thread of my honey blonde hair behind the ear he was talking about. "and on your chest!" he laughed loudly.
"don't look at those," i sheepishly covered my chest, getting a look from george.
"why not?" he suddenly sunk into the bed while wrapping his arms around my stomach, burying his face into my abdomen. "i think they're beautiful!"
i scoffed. "i don't," i tried to shove him off me, but he stayed put. "george, c'mon, get off." he looked surprisingly upset. i almost wanted to bring his back in when he slowly sat up.
"what's tha' matter?" he glanced over at me shortly as i stood up. "i've got 'em too, you know," i suppressed a smile.
looking down, i pointed at all the moles and freckles on my thighs and arms. i hated them. there were so many. while walking over to a mirror on the other side of my room, i could feel george's eyes on me. i stood in front of the mirror, lifting my shirt and looking at my stomach and the stretch marks. the dark brown belly hair fading into my pelvis. how chunky i looked. then i looked at my thighs. they were thick. you couldn't even see my knee caps. on top of that, they were hairy and disgusting looking.
"just look at me... i'm so ugly."
this was when george nearly choked on his own breath. "lu!" he flew toward me, grabbing my hands and tearing them from covering my insecurities. in awe, george looked me up and down before speaking. "you are not... ugly. you're the most amazing creature i've ever laid eyes on. i don't give a rat's ass about any moles, any body hair, or how your body looks. you're beautiful. inside and out!"
i knew he was saying that from his heart. or maybe he was just horny. then he started to tear up and i knew he was speaking from deep down. "don't cry, george," when he cried, i cried. "george..."
he took his hands away for a second, wiping away a stray tear, but they flew back when he was done. "i don't ever want to hear you say that about yourself ever again. okay?"
"you make it sound so easy," i laughed. "i really wish i didn't have these thoughts, but i do." he frowned, leading me back to the bed.
he sat me down and looked at me again. "we all do, lu. just look at me! i've got enough fat to feed a small country!" he comically slapped his thigh, eliciting a small chuckle from me.
"no, you don't."
"and you don't either."
at that moment, i just wanted to hug him and kiss him and never forget our conversation. he was the love of my life. i knew it. we were exact opposites, him being white and i being black, but we were somehow the exact same, in a way.
"i love you, george."
"i love you, luanne."
its been a while, i know. hope you enjoyed!