Chapter 1 New York Remembrance

Dear Readers: This chapter is primarily a background narrative concerning the past of one of the two main characters, including a quick history of the love affair from years ago. There is no physical sex scenes in this chapter. Sex is referenced, but no actual sex activity occurs.

A Love So Beautiful

Chapter 1: New York - Remembrances

"Ms. Brockson."

I turned my head to her direction, "Yes?"

"A gallery attendant came to me and said there was a woman who has been looking at "Feeling Free" for over twenty minutes. She is just standing there, still, seemingly lost in thought, according to the attendant. She says the woman seems to be in a trance-like state. Her eyes unfocused, just standing there, ostensibly looking at the painting, but not seeming to really be looking at it at the same time. The gallery employees are concerned that there may be something wrong with the lady, and are wondering if they should approach her?"

"Show me Michelle."

"Okay."

I followed my assistant as she walked to the display of "Feeling Free", and its two, smaller, related paintings. All the paintings were nudes of the same young woman. The main painting, "Feeling Free", is a painting of the young woman standing in a shaft of sunshine on a craggy landscape of moss and grass covered stones, with dark rainstorm clouds surrounding the rest of the painting's sky. A shaft of lightning in the distance, sheets of rain behind the woman. The shaft of sunlight cutting through the clouds illuminating a naked woman standing with her arms outstretched to her sides from her shoulders, her head laid back slightly, her shoulder length hair, wet and hanging down, her eyes closed. A sheen of water covering her naked body, the wetness shining from the light hitting her body. Her naked body fully in view from an off-center perspective, her breasts, nipples erect, her dark pubic hair, matted from the rain, glistening in the sunlight.

Beside the main painting, there were two smaller paintings, one on each side, showing the same woman, naked, viewed from behind her, her head and body turned slightly as she looks over her shoulder. One with her head over her right shoulder, the other the left. Her body illuminated from a light shaft shining on her, coming from a higher elevation with a downward angle, so that her backside was fully visible, though from her waist up, her body was turned somewhat as she looked over her shoulder. Her face was mostly visible, illuminated from the light. Depending on which painting of her looking over her shoulder, her face brightly lit on one side but gradually dimming into shadow from the angle of the light upon her face. The side of her breast, again with her nipple erect, was illuminated by the shaft of light. Behind her were vague outlines of a bed hidden in the darkness.

As I followed Michelle to the display I saw a somewhat petite woman, her brunette hair cut in an angled bob from her neck in back, to couple inches beneath her chin, in an attractive gray hombre wrap dress, ending just above her knees, opaque gray hose, with white kitten heeled slingback shoes.

I moved to my left a bit as I approached her so I could see her face. I only saw her face in profile, but I knew immediately who she was.

I gasped, loudly.

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I walked into the gallery on the thirtieth of July. I was here to see the exhibition of Charlene Brookson's paintings. It was the second to the last day of the exhibition. Charlene was to be present in person during the last week of the exhibition. I was here not only to view her paintings but to see and talk to Charlene.

I walked around until I found the display of her painting

Feeling Free

. The painting was flanked by two smaller paintings of a nude woman looking over her shoulder, one to the left, the other to the right, as if she was looking at whomever was viewing the painting. I had not seen these paintings in person in over a decade.

The paintings were as impressive, and visceral, to me as they were when I first saw them fourteen years ago. It was strange to see my naked body as it was when I was twenty years old. I smiled to myself seeing that my body still looked very much as my twenty-year-old body. It makes one feel good to see that time, so far, has had a minimal effect on your appearance.

Standing there looking at my nude body from that time flooded my mind with remembrances of my life at that time, and what has transpired since.

I have known Charlene, Charlie to me, since childhood. While we were not close friends growing up, I knew who she was since she lived in the same neighborhood as I did. She was only a year younger than me, but we ran in different circles of friends.

That all changed in my senior year of high school. Near the end of my senior year I participated in a verbal assault of Charlie, with a group of 'popular' girls that I had, unfortunately, decided to hang out with. Charlie had been caught in a sexual liaison with another girl in a girl's bathroom at school. Charlie even said it was a stupid thing to do, but teenagers aren't always very smart when sex is involved. Hormones and all that.

Of course, it became known to the students what had happened and this group I was running with decided it would be fun to harass her concerning her sexuality. It is the singular dumbest, most hurtful, thing I have done in my life. It is doubly dumb because I was struggling with my own sexuality at the time. But stupid is as stupid does.

I quickly realized just how despicable my behavior was concerning Charlie and separated myself from that group of girls. That earned me, and one other girl, that also no longer wanted to be part of the group, being harassed and insulted by these girls for the short time left in the school year. One bright side to it though was that their attention became more on us two girls, while they mostly left Charlie alone. They had had their fun concerning Charlie and were then more concerned with making the last part of my, and the other girl's, senior year as miserable as they could.

On the second to last day of school I approached Charlie and asked if I could talk with her. She reluctantly agreed to talk with me during our lunch hour. I apologized to her. I told her I had been stupid and had just gone along due to peer pressure, but that I now know just how wrong my behavior had been. Somewhat surprisingly, to me, she accepted my apology. I had hoped she would forgive me, but that she did not do. I found out later that she had forgiven me for my stupidity but withheld that bit of information from me. It was my penance, my burden to carry, for my actions.

At the end of my apology, I asked if I could give her a hug. Again, she surprised me by agreeing to hug. I felt something, within my body, that was unlike anything I had ever felt before. Charlie later told me she also had felt an emotional response to our hug.

My mother and father were divorced, but they were still friendly which each other, and I convinced them that going to the State college the summer after I graduated high school would allow me to find an off-campus apartment, become familiar with the college itself. I might get a part-time job and even take a couple of summer classes to be a step ahead for my freshman year. They, somewhat reluctantly, agreed.

Now the real reason I wanted to go that summer was I had also lost my closest, really my only true friend, because of my actions, deservedly so. So, I had nothing to keep me staying at home. In fact, in my mind, staying at home would only further increase the sadness and despair I was feeling at this point in my life. I was hoping a change in where I was living, and the prospect of having more, and new, distractions would keep the darkness away. It was only partially successful, but it did help.

The State college was only about three hours away from my childhood home, so I was able to return home to visit often enough to keep my parents happy. I found out later that my mother was aware something was bothering me, but not knowing what, she, and my father, agreed to my wishes to stay at college thinking it might help me. My attitude did improve some, and that improvement made my parents feel that it had been the correct action to have taken.

That hug with Charlie carried me through that summer and my freshman year in college. I was in a very low point emotionally. My actions haunted me throughout that first year, and the following summer, which I stayed at the college again. The memory of that hug, and how I felt during it, kept me going. Those two summers and the first year of college were the worst time of my life, to that point in my life, and still are, probably will always be so.

A month into my sophomore year I was in the library, and I saw Charlie in a quiet study room. I went to the room softly knocked on the door and entered the room. Charlie looked over, having heard the knock and saw me standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, an even wider smile appeared, she got up, walked over to me, and gave me a wonderful firm hug. If that hug from sixteen months ago, after I apologized to her, was the most important, most emotional, most sensation generating hug I had ever had, this hug eclipsed it, exponentially.

We ended up going to my apartment. Once there we had some wine and talked for a while. It was then that Charlie told me she had forgiven me when I apologized. She also disclosed that she knew from an early age, basically when puberty hit her, that she was attracted to women, and women only. In the years that passed she had watched me and had grown to adore me, that is until I ripped her heart out by my actions.

My coming to her and apologizing, in her words, returning her heart, in whole, and that I had offered my heart to her. She could have stomped on my heart, but she took it in a loving way and her feelings toward me flooded back into her, even stronger than before. She told me she was attending State college because she knew I was there and hoped to become my friend. Well, she admitted, wanting to be more than a friend, she wanted to be my lover.

We ended up having sex that evening. It wasn't sex, well it was, but it was more than sex, it was making love. Charlie made love to me that night. She opened my world to the wonders of loving another woman. I was unable to accept that I was a lesbian, maybe I was just bi. I did know, however, that sex with another woman was an experience I was never going to stop desiring.

Two days later Charlie was coming over after classes and while I was getting ready for her arrival, I decided I would surprise her. I decided to be naked when she arrived. I stripped down to my bra and panties and did some light stretching in the shaft of sunlight coming through the bedroom window. The warmth of the sunlight, and my stretching, caused a light sheen of perspiration on my body. I discarded my bra and panties and stood naked in the shaft of light, arms outstretched, my head tilted back, my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth and feelings coursing through my body. That is how Charlie found me.

Charlie gasped and asked me what the hell I was doing. I opened my eyes, looked over at her, and told her "I was feeling free."

Finding me nude, standing as I was, awakened the painter in her and she convinced me to allow her to take some photos with her phone, for only our viewing. What I did not know was she began painting me as I stood in that shaft of sunlight the next day.

A couple of weeks later Charlie took me to the art studio and showed me her nearly completed painting. It was stunning. She told me that a painting like this took her longer to complete normally, but the strokes of her brush just flowed naturally from her mind, to her hand, to the brush, to the canvas.

The college has a yearly art competition for their art students. They hold it at the end of the fall semester so the entries can be displayed through the rest of the year. Charlie asked me if she could enter the painting in the contest. She knew that she was asking a lot. Asking me to allow my naked body to be displayed to the students and public alike. I think I was awash in the beauty, and the feelings the painting instilled in my body, and I almost immediately agreed. I say almost, I think it took me all of a minute to say yes.

Charlie was surprised with the quickness I said yes. She told me it was a big decision. It was my naked frontal body on full display for everyone to see. Was I really okay and comfortable with it being displayed.

Again, I think I was under the sway of the beauty of the painting and the emotions coursing through my body and mind. I told her that, yes, I knew that my naked body would be on full display for all to see, but the beauty of the painting should not be hidden. I told her I felt what I thought were the emotions she felt for me as she painted and that other people would also see the painting for what it was, an expression of the love and deep caring she held for me.

I told her the human body, especially the female body, I am biased here so forgive me, is a wonderful sight. What nature, or God if you prefer, ended up making the female body as it is, has been a part of human art since time immemorial.

Was I comfortable with my nude body being on display for anyone to see? Hell no, but the beauty and emotions in the painting were not mine to keep from people seeing it. And, as an ego booster, if they deem a painting of my naked body as beautiful, who am I to disagree. Some discomfort on my behalf was fully acceptable to me if it meant that the beauty of this painting was given to the world to see.

This brought tears to Charlie's eyes, and a near rib-breaking hug to me.

She cried, she hugged me, and then Charlie kissed me as passionately as she ever had.

I hugged her back, then to break the intensity between us, I told her that hopefully our families would agree. That did what I wanted it to do, it made Charlie giggle and release me. Her moist eyes staring at me, full of her own emotions, she smiled and said, "Let's hope." We both laughed and gave each other another, though less forceful, hug.

Oh, by the way, that afternoon and evening following Charlie finding me standing naked in the sunlight, found me making love, for the first wonderous time, to a woman, and not just any woman, but a woman I loved, a woman named Charlene. My heart knew I loved her, but my mind was still aways from being able to admit that it was love. I had the notion in my mind that love took time to evolve, which I now know is not always true, sometimes it walks up to you and slaps you in the face.

About a month later from that afternoon, in an incident in the college library, I publicly outed myself as a lesbian, told Charlie, and those near us in the library, that I loved her, and that I knew she, for reasons unknown to me, loved me. Which Charlie loudly acknowledged to the people in the library, and me, that she did love me. It was the most important day in my young life.

Charlie's painting

Feeling Free

won the jury prize as the best painting that year. Charlie was only the third freshman to win the jury prize in the seventy-three years of the competition. She became the only second freshman to place two paintings in the top five entries that year also. The other painting was

Looking Back, Right

. The painting of me, nude, looking over my right shoulder.

Over the next three years Charlie placed second twice, and third once, in the yearly art competition. She left the State college with the most appearances in the top five entries of any student.

We had become a couple. We made plans. Charlie moved in with me for the spring semester that year. We lived together in my small apartment for the next three and a half years until she graduated with honors and left me to go to Chicago to pursue an MFA in visual arts at The School of the Art Institute.

That was devastating to me. But I knew Charlie had to go. She was given a scholarship covering three-quarters of tuition, and all on-campus housing costs, food, and all art supplies needed for the course. This program was one of the best in the country. Art was her passion. All her life from a young age on was focused on art and being an artist.

Charlie initially resisted the offer, she didn't want to leave me; but myself, my mom, and her wife Alexandia, who had become close to Charlie, as a mentor and dear friend, all resolutely said she had to go. Charlie's mother and her sisters all insisted she needed to accept the scholarship and attend the school. It was the pinnacle of all she had worked for all those years. Charlie reluctantly agreed to accept the offer. She knew she had to no matter how hard it would be on her and me personally.

This is what happens to young people. You have to go where your life's desired pursuit lies. We would stay in touch. We would see each other whenever we could. We would keep close to each other. That is what we said, and we both meant it at that time, but life and circumstance conspired to make those promises fall aside as our lives went on divergent paths.

When I graduated, with honors I'll have you know, I began my pursuit of an MFA in creative writing at the State college. Their program was well respected, and it kept me with Charlie for her senior year.

I continued to stay at college during summers, taking what courses were offered that would help me in my pursuit of becoming a writer. Their MFA program included classes to qualify a person to teach at a university level. I thought that if I could get a teaching position at a college not only would I have an income, but it would also be a job that would give me the time and opportunity to pursue my writing.

At the end of my first year in the MFA program, I published a memoir of my journey of discovery of who I was and the love I had found with Charlie. I started writing my memoir during my sophomore year and on through the next two years. The memoir ended with the departure of Charlie and my struggle to continue on after she left.

I didn't realize it then, but looking back at it now, I have come to believe it was my goodbye to Charlie. Somewhere hidden in my mind's recesses I knew that our life as a loving couple was over. The story of my journey was a love story about, and for, Charlie. She opened aspects of who I was to myself, that without her, I might very well have never been able to accept, much less proclaim to the world.

The truth be known I had really started the memoir that first year with Charlie, and I incorporated much of what I wrote then into what became my memoir. I wrote about those first months we were together, before we lived together. They were the bedrock of our love. They changed my life completely and forever. I did not include certain portions that I had originally written in the published book.

What I wrote concerning our early love affair originally was only for Charlie and me. While I did write about our life and love together in those first months, I also included graphic and detailed descriptions of our sex life. I wrote smut, to be honest. I meant it to be sexually arousing. I wanted to let Charlie know just how much our intimate life meant to me, and the feelings and emotions that I felt for the first time in my life. It was all new for me and to properly tell that part of our relationship I felt I had to put into words, as best as I could, just what her physical love for me made me feel and how I so wanted and hoped I returned the same for her. I gave her a printed copy at the end of that first semester, as my Christmas present for her.