Breaking the Mold

She came in to the world without hype, without fanfare, ending up being merely
one of nine squarely in the middle.  The ambiguity of being the middle child quickly
changed, however, as determination broke through almost as soon as she could function.

Her informative years became just that as she informed everyone that she had arrived.  She was to break the mold which had been placed before her and would come to those after her.  She was indeed a little different from the rest of her family and struggled with it.  As Cinderella was made to feel different without her glass slipper when she was in fact special, so was she.  Her perseverance throughout was noble as doubts surrounded, some self inflicted some not.  Her interests were many.  So many, in fact, it was confusing for her to concentrate on any one thing.  To write, to draw, to help others all seemed too important to dismiss.  So, for a time, she played the role handed to her and conformed as those around her had.  She did what she was told, what had to be done and what was expected and with her instincts put on the back burner she muddled along forgetting her destiny.

For a long while she languished in her mediocrity.  Not knowing if she was happy or sad, she merely played the game.  Content in her contentment she became the number that had been assigned to her from birth.  The sensation, however, which burned inside her wouldn’t subside.  She became restless and inquisitive.   She needed more than was afforded and eventually found a distraction in the most improbable of places.

Her job was to seat, meet and greet, and of course, handle the money.  Not being exposed to the outside world with the exception of those of her kind posed to be a little maddening at first.  Outsiders were definitely different but as she always seemed to do she adapted rapidly yet trusted slowly.  Quickly she became a fixture and central point of the establishment.  Everything ran through her. While she relished her new found importance, once again the burning in her continued… until that fateful day arrived.

In the restaurant game faces are forever going through the revolving doors.  So it was not a big surprise when a new employee was needed when another was let go.  He came through the doors as all others had before him.  All were suspicious because the boss himself had hired him.  Slowly but surely he put all at ease.  His manner was different than the previous inmates who had come before him.  It seemed to some that “business was about to pick up.”

The unlikely connection was almost instantaneous.  During the weeks and months that followed they became fast friends, confidants and eventually something more.  To say they had a connection would be an injustice to the word and meaning.  They were joined spiritually and despite the rule about fraternization they wouldn’t and couldn’t adhere to it.

Road blocks are common along every path and their relationship was no different.  Her unique doubts were many and were equally matched by his but being the kind of people they are and their combined strong sense of purpose, they whisked the reservations away like bread crumbs on a kitchen floor.  Fighting the odds and beliefs of others around them proved challenging but in the end it strengthened their resolve.

As he thought all along, the relationship reinforced her faith – not dissolve it as others had suspected it would.  She grew stronger and more committed to everything she wanted and had become, somewhat unbeknownst to her, liberated.  She had become free to be who she truly was and more able to make the right decisions for herself.  They both knew what they had was destined to come to a premature end.  Their time together would be short but more electrifying than most.

They knew they would always remain more than friends forever and while she believed their clandestine relationship had brought new meaning to her life, in fact, it was he who would be irrevocably changed as a result of her, because of who she was, what she was about and what she would always mean to him.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.