Faceprints
Dad came out of the office and suggested taking a photo of us. We didn't resist - it was planned by me for a very special purpose, and my loved one still found me attractive at that time. I still have that folder... "Gothic_April_2006"...
I was getting out of my skin trying to find a place with the service I needed. Remember that the internet wasn't so widespread more than 5 years ago. Eventually with the help of daddy's colleagues I knew where to go. Which photo should I choose?
The card... About 3 years of the Newsreader Obsession made me quite experienced in choosing cards, but still picking one for the special guy wasn't an easy task. Anyway it was done after about an hour of thinking and dreaming right there in the shop.
Dad's colleagues were right and the place I went to with mum really had the service of printing photos on teacups. Photoshopping the unnecessary traffic sign, cropping the photo. Ordered.
I collected it a day later. Looked perfect. The words to be written on the card came by themselves and there was no need to try to think something out. I just wrote them down as if they've been there forever and I only outlined them with black ink.
A blue package. This part of my mission was kinda challenging since in Ukraine it's not easy to find a proper gift package for a gothic guy. At first mum thought it was too "sad" but later agreed that it must be perfect for whom it was meant.
The day had come. Doing my best makeup, putting on his fave clothes. We met at the same place where we usually did, found a place to sit down, he held me on his laps and I gave him the card and the gift. The card had a pic of a cute sad brown-eyed doggy, he smiled and asked: "Is it me?" I smiled back and said that "well, I must admit I chose it because it looks a bit like you". He gave me a kiss and started unwrapping the gift. I can't even describe how happy he was, having done it he kissed me for about 7 minutes without stopping. I knew he will be happy but a reaction like this was a surprise. Then he said that it was only his grandma who gave him bday gifts since he became a grown-up. I felt sorry for him but was happy at the same time - because I made him happy. The only one. The loved one.
Who could know what he would turn into in a few months after that day?
I didn't want the surgery, honestly, I didn't. Yes I know this doesn't make me less guilty, I should have asked about consequences....
He doesn't look like that doggy from the card now. His eyes look more like eyes of an experienced slut living in some alternative world.
And where is the cat I knew? Whom we wanted to have with us when we move in together?
I still miss you.
P.S. This post is unedited, written in an exhausted sleepy condition. I don't feel like going through it once more so I left it as it was. Sorry for the bad English. Meds slow my mind down and my Ukrainian isn't better at the moment.
I was getting out of my skin trying to find a place with the service I needed. Remember that the internet wasn't so widespread more than 5 years ago. Eventually with the help of daddy's colleagues I knew where to go. Which photo should I choose?
The card... About 3 years of the Newsreader Obsession made me quite experienced in choosing cards, but still picking one for the special guy wasn't an easy task. Anyway it was done after about an hour of thinking and dreaming right there in the shop.
Dad's colleagues were right and the place I went to with mum really had the service of printing photos on teacups. Photoshopping the unnecessary traffic sign, cropping the photo. Ordered.
I collected it a day later. Looked perfect. The words to be written on the card came by themselves and there was no need to try to think something out. I just wrote them down as if they've been there forever and I only outlined them with black ink.
A blue package. This part of my mission was kinda challenging since in Ukraine it's not easy to find a proper gift package for a gothic guy. At first mum thought it was too "sad" but later agreed that it must be perfect for whom it was meant.
The day had come. Doing my best makeup, putting on his fave clothes. We met at the same place where we usually did, found a place to sit down, he held me on his laps and I gave him the card and the gift. The card had a pic of a cute sad brown-eyed doggy, he smiled and asked: "Is it me?" I smiled back and said that "well, I must admit I chose it because it looks a bit like you". He gave me a kiss and started unwrapping the gift. I can't even describe how happy he was, having done it he kissed me for about 7 minutes without stopping. I knew he will be happy but a reaction like this was a surprise. Then he said that it was only his grandma who gave him bday gifts since he became a grown-up. I felt sorry for him but was happy at the same time - because I made him happy. The only one. The loved one.
Who could know what he would turn into in a few months after that day?
I didn't want the surgery, honestly, I didn't. Yes I know this doesn't make me less guilty, I should have asked about consequences....
He doesn't look like that doggy from the card now. His eyes look more like eyes of an experienced slut living in some alternative world.
And where is the cat I knew? Whom we wanted to have with us when we move in together?
I still miss you.
P.S. This post is unedited, written in an exhausted sleepy condition. I don't feel like going through it once more so I left it as it was. Sorry for the bad English. Meds slow my mind down and my Ukrainian isn't better at the moment.