I"m still trying to figure out why Debbie had a lot of scars and yet what she focused on in our "dating' days was the scars on her right leg -which had been crushed when she was hit by a car. It was a few months from the time we met until I saw her leg and the way she talked about those scars I thought that I was going to see something straight out of Frankenstein. When I finally saw her leg I was like "yeah ... and?" Yes, she had scars. But I honestly didn't see the big deal and I thought she had beautiful legs - both of them.
It took her awhile to believe me but she eventually did and even started wearing shorts. After that leg was amputated, I told her that her stump looked like a dolphin and we talked about having it tattooed to look even more like one. That never happened because of other problems that came up, but the point is that I wasn't sure how I would feel about her leg scars - or her amputation - and what I found is that they were just another part of the woman I loved.
Yes, I know that sometimes I sound incredibly, horribly sappy, but that is the way it was. I loved the woman and though she lost two legs, had majorly more scars by the time she died than when I met her, gained a considerable amount of weight, and had other increasing physical issues over the time we were together, it didn't freaking matter. I loved her for who she was, I fell even more in love over the years, and that ended up also meaning that I thought she was more beautiful with every passing year than when we first met.
Scars... they simply tell a story of part of your life, they dont' say a durn thing about who you are as a person.
It took her awhile to believe me but she eventually did and even started wearing shorts. After that leg was amputated, I told her that her stump looked like a dolphin and we talked about having it tattooed to look even more like one. That never happened because of other problems that came up, but the point is that I wasn't sure how I would feel about her leg scars - or her amputation - and what I found is that they were just another part of the woman I loved.
Yes, I know that sometimes I sound incredibly, horribly sappy, but that is the way it was. I loved the woman and though she lost two legs, had majorly more scars by the time she died than when I met her, gained a considerable amount of weight, and had other increasing physical issues over the time we were together, it didn't freaking matter. I loved her for who she was, I fell even more in love over the years, and that ended up also meaning that I thought she was more beautiful with every passing year than when we first met.
Scars... they simply tell a story of part of your life, they dont' say a durn thing about who you are as a person.
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