You told me once “Don’t pout. It’s unbecoming”
And I cried for a week
You told me I should develop a thicker skin
And I wondered why you felt the need to teach me that lesson
When it was you who seemed to value my skin for its softness
And my lips for their sweetness
And my body for its tendency
To let you in
In this sometimes harsh world, is it any surprise
That kind words are desperately sought after
Even if they’re not always sincere
Even if it’s just a ploy to get ahead
To get me into bed
Because then, hey,
At least I’m getting laid
I will soak up your sweethearts and lovers’ talk
Like syrup on pancakes
I will sacrifice my working hours
For some quality time and late-morning showers
Even if, in the end, my efforts are not matched
And the result is frustration, disappointment, distress…
When my mother finds me grieving over yet another seething injustice
She says to me, fondly
“You’ve been this intense since you were five years old”
And while I’m not entirely sold on the idea
That our personalities are determined at such a young age
It gratifies me to realize that I haven’t yet passed that stage
Because the truth is
I don’t want to develop a thicker skin
I don’t want to win arguments based in unfair fashion
Or use my passion to formulate malicious attacks
Or pack my slate full of anger and hate
Because while I’ve been hurt
I’ve not yet been broken
And while I’ve spoken my mind about the kind of lovers I’ve known
The kind who’ve shown themselves unworthy of the title
Lover
My tone, I believe, has always been mischievous, playful, without regret
And I begin each new love affair full of unabashed optimism
Yes, it’s a constant struggle
But each new person is different
And each new person has the potential
Has the essential elements that make it possible to feel something
And with a thicker skin, I’m afraid I might not be able to sense your soft eyelashes brush my face
Or your careful fingertips along the sides of my neck
Or your gentle lips pause against the backs of my knees
I never want to close myself off or shut myself up or turn my face away
To protect myself from what you might say
Because what you might say might be beautiful
You see
Sometimes I can feel my heart beat
And I never want to lose that feeling
—
Written by Jessica Ruano
September 2010
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