After seeing the results of my recent bizarre need to draw Miss L, someone pointed out to me that I once also sketched an Ex (Miss Child). Miss C works with Sister. I don't remember doing this but cannot deny it. I'm lucky if I remember what I did yesterday.
The same person then asked if Miss L was prettier then Miss C. My short response was, "Yes, no comparison"
Here is the long response:
Miss C is pretty. As an artist I was drawn to her eyes and smile. She has a nice figure as well. Miss C is also a frightened little girl who never grew up.
Do you remember when you were about 10 or so and began transitioning from being a child to a teenager? You started to have adult feelings about others and the world at large. You were scared shitless.
Miss Child never left this stage of development. She never found the confidence we all find (to some degree) to become a functional adult. C has no center, no foundation, and no point of reference inside her to navigate from. She drifts emotionally with the prevailing winds and her sail will fill and change direction at a moments notice.
Miss C acts on a whim. Whatever she feels like doing or saying she does with no awareness of how words and actions affect those around her. Whatever she wants, she wants right now or she will hold her breath until she gets it.
As we mature we develop a sense of impact. We learn that our words and actions ripple out and touch those around us. We learn that despite how it felt our first ten years on the planet, the world does not function to please us or punish us. The world functions and we fit ourselves in it as best we can.
Miss C missed all of this. She is still ten. She has good inside her, it is what attracted me to her in the first place. She is just a little girl in a women's body. Unlike the men before me, I treated C like a person, an adult and a woman. She was not my trophy, she was not my concubine. She was not use to being something more than an accessory in a relationship. She as not ready for me.
I presented Miss C a chance at an adult relationship and she had no way of coping with it. She never developed a sense of Other that one needs to be with another person. She looked to me as a potential father-figure to help guide her from where her father apparently jumped ship emotionally. She did not want to be loved by me, she wanted to be raised by me. I was expected to cash a check her parents wrote years ago.
Bottom line; I saw the beauty in a very sad, broken, scared and scarred little girl. That beauty was only a flash, though. She is not a pretty woman. She is actually plain-Jane unsightly.
Now take Miss C and compare her to Miss L. My short answer was perfect. There is no comparison. Physically they are in a dead-heat at first glance. With Miss C, the more time you spent with her, the closer you got, the uglier she became. She was a wax doll whose face melted under the heat of an adult interaction. Miss L’s beauty only rises to the top under the same heat.
I've only spent three or four hours with Miss L in the same room with me. It has been two weeks (to the day) since the first and last time I saw her. She is as physically removed from me as possible.
She is more stunning to me today than the day she walked into Scooby's and caught my attention. Everyday since that serendipitous Friday night she has gotten a makeover... she is the most eye-catching girl I know – even when I can’t see her.
I close my eyes when I talk to her now. I can see her through her voice.
And she takes my breath away.
So, like I said, when asked last night if Miss L is prettier than Miss C:
"Yes, no comparison" was the best short answer I’ve given to a question in awhile.