Here's the deal. Adam was my keeper...while others said why? I said he was dreamy and handsome and wealthy inside. They said he needed new teeth, and I was like what? Whenever I've gone to the NetherRealms I can feel straight teeth on my bottom shelf...as in when Medicaid only paid for my top row necessary braces, God inserted a sensory of sorts. My ex had fake teeth too. Lineage.
Both so poor. I mean poverty stylin...not what you would think of me working towards to find. Adam literally lived in a shanty shack...unlike any thing I had ever seen, but somehow I saw it beautiful. It was the way he was in it. The way his hobbies lined out in it. The leather station was my favorite and yes he is supposed to make me a belt...anyway. He makes suitcases and backpacks and designs leather...now that is a cool trade. And he played the guitar...and put together just about anything with his hands. He is a mason of great talent and design...as far as in my mind. He can draw and put together ideas on paper from sketching. Maybe not rare, but I found it very intriguing.
I believe I found him in his hands. Anyone I would say he was all that good looking and wonderfully made to...would contradict me. This time in the hospital I had the sensory that I was talking to people's outer shells and not really what they looked like...and that I wasn't really what I thought I looked like either. When friends would tease me about this severe crush on my redneck lover...they would say why him? Why? And I would say "are you serious?" He is the sexiest man I have ever met!!! I guess he needed new teeth...I never noticed. I guess I hear he is not much to look at? Hmmmm...well hmmmm...I thought so.
Hands. He was so good with his hands. And I wake up thinking about Adams hands and though I remember pretty visually every other inch of how he looked to me...I do not remember what his hands looks like. I remember he was very good to me with them. I don't know if they are big or small hands, dirty or nimble and it doesn't matter...somehow he touched my soul with his hands in a little shack, run down...falling apart in his arms. Somehow.
My teeth feel crooked tonight. I miss Adam. Time will tell if I am ever to let go all the way...and/or this is just for s story. Some story about knowing a man inside and out by the twinkle in his eyes and the touch of his hands...
Both so poor. I mean poverty stylin...not what you would think of me working towards to find. Adam literally lived in a shanty shack...unlike any thing I had ever seen, but somehow I saw it beautiful. It was the way he was in it. The way his hobbies lined out in it. The leather station was my favorite and yes he is supposed to make me a belt...anyway. He makes suitcases and backpacks and designs leather...now that is a cool trade. And he played the guitar...and put together just about anything with his hands. He is a mason of great talent and design...as far as in my mind. He can draw and put together ideas on paper from sketching. Maybe not rare, but I found it very intriguing.
I believe I found him in his hands. Anyone I would say he was all that good looking and wonderfully made to...would contradict me. This time in the hospital I had the sensory that I was talking to people's outer shells and not really what they looked like...and that I wasn't really what I thought I looked like either. When friends would tease me about this severe crush on my redneck lover...they would say why him? Why? And I would say "are you serious?" He is the sexiest man I have ever met!!! I guess he needed new teeth...I never noticed. I guess I hear he is not much to look at? Hmmmm...well hmmmm...I thought so.
Hands. He was so good with his hands. And I wake up thinking about Adams hands and though I remember pretty visually every other inch of how he looked to me...I do not remember what his hands looks like. I remember he was very good to me with them. I don't know if they are big or small hands, dirty or nimble and it doesn't matter...somehow he touched my soul with his hands in a little shack, run down...falling apart in his arms. Somehow.
My teeth feel crooked tonight. I miss Adam. Time will tell if I am ever to let go all the way...and/or this is just for s story. Some story about knowing a man inside and out by the twinkle in his eyes and the touch of his hands...