Peca, “Cara same”, Brioche

3 things to inspire 1 story written in 20 minutes. #story320
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I broke my rule of selecting 3 words. I also broke some of a relationship. A relationship that has out grown me while I’m stuck thinking about that kid I used to call Peca, “Cara same”, and, to a lesser degree, Brioche. Those were names to tease and laugh. Now, they no longer fit.

Briana Marie Chapman, those three words have out grown me. Those three proper nouns were tossed at me on the sound-wave of a giggle and I threw them back with a snarl and a wave of a my middle finger.

I was wrong. I’ve thought about it everyday since but have been too much of a coward to tell you anything directly.

I guess I wanted to figure out why I feel this way–felt this way. I wanted to be justified but really, I don’t know you as Briana Marie Chapman. Which is a strange thing because I hold you in such high regard. I always have.

From watching you pick up rodents and reptiles with no problem, to literally climbing up the walls to holding your own against my teasing which culminated in leaving a red hand print on my back. All the way to teaching for a year on your own in a country where the language was completely foreign to you. To your latest endeavors.

I’m proud of that person, who from afar, I know as Briana Marie Chapman. The first person I call to tell important things, “I bought a ring, I’m engaged, I’m going to rehab.” That’s a trust I never question.

That’s peca, “cara same”, and brioche, but really it’s not. It’s B.M.C., always has been and I have a hunch that my retarded grasp on that fact has something to do with our distance. I think, subconsciously I held/hold an idea of your and not what is. So I haven’t grown with the relationship, instead I feel like a kid holding onto his tattered piece of “blanky”. I’m a grown man holding up a few memories that no longer fit.

I’m mostly sad and angry that for some reason or another I’m not a part of your life. Something for which I can only blame myself.

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