Eye of the beholder

Eye of the beholder
My friendly stalker, everyone has a friendly stalker in life... My first friendly stalker happened when I was 12, some referred to him as my aunts husband uncle Viejo. When I told my mother about this situation she was so angry she stopped calling him by his nick name and would address him by his full legal name, the way parents do to children when they misbehave... I never understood how this meant she had my back. He died violently years later. I was confused by the joy I felt, I called my mom and asked her if it was ok for me to congratulate my aunt.
I moved in with my second friendly stalker when I moved to NYC 15 years ago. I was 20 and he was 56 year genius millionaire w/ many control issues. I was kept like a bird in a golden cage. Birds in cages don't fly. I once over heard my father say I really messed up that relationship bc I would be set up for life by now. My mother now refers to him as the predator, I wonder why she never said that before? Then again there is always their fear of me being a lesbian so old and rich is better than tits & pussy. If I was still dating him he would be turning 71 this year.
I have had a few more friendly stalkers like the street vendor in Times Square who gave me Diamond earrings on Easter. He disappeared one day without notice? & the protective dyke that would walk me to and from the train when I lived in Fort Green, Brooklyn next to the projects. Or my bow tie wearing cross dresser who kept me sane as I explored the world of S&M. Or the pycho 3rd generation clown, who trained me to do acrobatics. Friendly stalkers come in all shapes and sizes some with good intentions some not so great. The older I get the better quality of human my friendly stalkers are becoming.
My newest friendly stalker confuses me sometimes I think he is like a guardian Angel other times I fantasize that he is from the Russian mob. Not so hard to imagine when you grow up in Colombia during the 80's & 90's.
Yesterday my friendly stalker & I went on a bike ride on the west side. We got to the pier where he pointed out that easily he could throw me into the Hudson... I said well that's not a far swim. Then he told me that we must change the way that I dress on a daily basis, for if I want to make it as a movie star I must dress as if I was going to be photographed all time... My friendly stalker likes to photograph me. I love being photographed. His advise is right! I have been slacking on the presentation of self side, and dressing up makes life so much more fun. Clothing is like armor for social survival. So today I am dressed like an 18th century Russian film star. He would be proud. I am very happy with our relationship... He encourages me to write about our stories, I hope he's not really in the mob... But then again I love role-play!

Live Love Laugh Liliana sent from my iPad