Donuts, Doggies and Dreams

I really love mint tea with a scoop of sugar heating up my favorite purple mug that holds a shit-ton of mint tea.  I love encircling the mug with my hands, warming them. I love watching the slight ribbons of steam escaping from the top. I love the minty-sugary smell emanating from the mug. I love the quiet, early mornings, sitting on a couch, a fluffy blanket on my lap, cuddly puppy glued to my side, and time for my thoughts to roam wherever they may.  I love the rainy, thundering days of looking out my window and watching the drops hit the deck and shudder as each booming thunder clap erupts. I love the sunny, windy days sitting in my chair, watching the leaves dance in the wind and the birds gathering for their daily meeting.  And my mug of hot mint tea accompanying me through it all.  

 I saw you in a picture the other day. I had to zoom in to make sure it was actually you because you're old and rusty. You were smiling and it made me angry.   Would you be smiling if I was able to tell you how my life changed because of you? Would you be married with your own children?  Would you be allowed to be alone with a child if they knew? How you lured me into your room and I went willingly because you were so much older and cooler.  I felt special because you took time to pay attention to me. Your blankets were waded in a pile on your bed and clothes were strewn around but I thought it was wonderful because it was a teenager's room and I had never entered one before. You had me sit on your bed and then began tickling me, which was innocent at first.   But then, your hands "tickled" places they shouldn't have.   And I froze.  I just laid there in terror.  I could have yelled and any number of people would have checked on me....