Ill-Gotten Memories

15. Dreams

A blue teddy bear. The kind with enough stuffing to fill all the cracks in your heart. What came to mind as a children's toy to others, was a product of affection to me. I named her Dr. Binky. That thing lasted years, sitting on my couch, or a favorite chair, and sometimes next to me in bed. But I hadn't seen Dr. Binky in months. Not since Glen and I... "took a break."

She was an idol of sorts. Something for me to reflect on when I had my doubts. Now she was packed away in the room I kept locked, with all the other items and memorabilia I couldn't face without insurmountable pain stabbing me in the chest.

Sentimental values cut deep.

That teddy bear was the gift he gave me on our first real date. I was somewhere in the ballpark of... eighteen or nineteen at the time. I took special care of Dr. Binky. I'd even stitched her up a few times. She was precious.

Glen and I had been together for as long as that teddy bear existed, and the majority of that time we were engaged. We had our ups and downs like most young couples. Disagreements. Arguments. But there were good times too. Trips to Coney Island and the Grand Canyon. Sweet kisses on the Ferris wheel. No matter how bad the bad was, we stuck it out. There was always more good to look forward to.

In my shallowness, I had thought we would last forever. Or at least until Dr. Binky gave out. My dreams for us were to get married, have a little girl, and move to Paris.

But it had been six months since we spoke. If he'd really wanted us to get married one day... if he truly loved me, wouldn't he have at least called? It hurt my heart to think that maybe he had moved on. After all, he said he loved me. He told me over and over... but Glen was completely absent from my life, like those twenty years meant nothing.

And here I was, about to have "dinner" with my new neighbor Johnathan.

My hair was washed and clean. I didn't go to great lengths or try to outdo myself. My minimal efforts left it a little curly on the ends, fluffy in the middle, and flat on top. Sweet and simple. It wasn't the hottest trend of 1984 but I didn't see the Beauty Police around. Most women of my age were getting perms to make their hair as big as possible. That was too much trouble for someone like me.

I'd also taken the time to properly bathe myself. I wore something casual so he didn't get the wrong idea. He'd have to let his imagination do all the work. Not that there was anything desirable about me to begin with.

I know I was hard on myself. Dr. Jenkins intended for my self-deprecating language to end. But it hadn't yet. "Critical" should've been my middle name.

Weren't all ladies at some point overly concerned with their looks? It was ingrained in our society—that men craved curves, big busts, and wide hips, and only those three objects alone could satisfy them—so maybe it wasn't an inward problem. It was outward.

My own struggles with body image started at a young age. Cheryl, teachers... Dad, all had a way of informing me that I was overweight. When I got older though, the clothes just fell right off of me. It was hard to find any that fit me well.

But Boyles wasn't impressed.

He'd make rude remarks about how skinny and bony I had become. That I was "dreadful" to look at. It didn't stop him from... doing what he did, but he made sure I knew that he was the only man who'd ever want me.

Then there was Glen. The thorn that dug deepest. During our weekly argument over intimacy (and the lack thereof), he suggested that I posed for him, naked. I still blushed thinking about it. He was well aware of the things Boyles had done to me, and obviously, I was uncomfortable with this. But I did it anyway. I knew I was one argument away from losing him forever.