Long Way To Go

While partially concealed in the morning shadows of the parking lot, I squint and witness the behavior that creases my brow and sours my mouth. People so enthralled with each other, but even moreso with themself, that they do not even notice her. They move along with fake smiles, purposefully glinting their most recent tooth whitening procedure, as they pretend to pay attention to each other. 

But, I know better. 

They aren't really listening because they are too busy inside their own tiny brain thinking about what next they can voice about themself when the other momentarily stops to take a breath. All the while, no attention is paid to her. She stands quietly and is easily unnoticed and taken advantage of since she asks for so little and demands even less. She is right there with them, but they are oblivious of her presence while adjusting their fancy, name-brand clothes and expensive gear.

She accepts being ignored.She's used to it; always overlooked and passed by without regard. But, she doesn't let them bother her, she is better than that. They can't bring her down.

She says nothing, but I watch with great scrutiny and hear her speak volumes. We "get" each other, that's why she's my mistress. She's silently tough and I'm so selfish and overwhelmingly protective of her. Part of me wants to make them address her. Make them respect her. But then, there's a part of me that doesn't want to share her with anybody; scoop her up and run away to shield her from anyone or anything.

Yup, my mistress is technically named the Apex Park, partially reopened last Friday with users pounding up and down the mountain trails as I'm sidelined on crutches. Even on opening day, she looked vibrantly beautiful all freckled with patches of snow in the shadows. But, I also noticed distant pieces of litter that I find so irritating, so disrespectful. 

Some users come off the mountain and return to their cars with bloody hands and knees or snagged clothing. I smirk and give my mistress a wink and a high-five. Unbeknownst to them, she stealthfully infused her will and forced them to respect her. I know her trickery, it's part of what I adore about her. As an occasional reminder, she's done the same thing to me many times when I get foolishly complacent and take her for granted.

I'm longing to smell the earthy spring odors, feel the rocky trails under my feet, see the newborn fawns, hear the returning songbirds and taste the scent of the flowering shrubs. 

But, Doc examined my leg today and reached the verdict of (insert a drum roll)...I have a long way to go. The thoroughly despised Crutch Brothers will hang out with me for awhile longer, as will the boot. When Doc touched the healing incision, I almost flinch-punched him because the area is so delicately tender; a butterfly wing lightly brushing the highly sensitive area would make me wince.

He spoke about progress, but it is measured ever so slowly that I can hardly stand it. I got things to do and places to go!  Plus, doesn't he know that my mistress needs me as much as I need her? 

A long way to go.  It sucks, but I'll get there.