Patrick spotted me at the U of I scratch-n-dent sale. I was marked down to $15. He opened me up, stretched me out, and crawled inside. It was absolutely wonderful. He was in me for several minutes and he even took a little nap. Someone that exhausted was in the need of a little shelter and I knew if he picked me I would never let him down. As he meticulously rolled me up he pointed out some of my scars to the sales lady. I thought he was complimenting me since these are sure signs of my survive-ability and repair-ability. But then he offered $10 for me. I was stunned. The gal said she thought it was fair but she would have to ask her boss. Betrayed! As she wandered off, I recounted my brief relationship with Patrick and yes. Yes. We had hit it off... but still, he didn't see these marks as good thing at all. He'd completely misunderstood me.
Yet, still I was inexplicably drawn to him. I needed his acceptance, his affection. I wished I could tell him the price wasn't my fault and that it shouldn't come between us. I wished I could tell that though I had been hurt in the past, it shouldn't be seen as a problem with me but a sign of the cruelty of this world. He knew I'd been used by and passed around the frat houses... men with seemingly no feeling who would let their friends use me like some sort of object for their amusement. One of these disgusting bastards even used me as a pillow one night... deemed me unneeded because of the "favorable" weather. Now I could see Patrick felt the same way. Damaged merchandise was all he saw.
But something was happening. He was clutching me to his chest and muttering something. The sales lady had returned and said her manager wont let her sell it at that price. She was reaching for me and at that moment I didn't know who I wanted to be with less. Patrick was shaking his head; his heart was racing. Trembling he opened his wallet and seemed to intentionally show me it's contents: $11. All he had in the world. He was willing to give up 89% of his net worth for me!
He clutched me tightly with one hand and with the other held out the full $11. She gave him a dubious look. But in looking at me, she see realized my happiness, my sense of purpose, my life was in her hands. She begrudgingly took the $11 and waved us on. There's no doubt in my mind she was fired on the spot. Such generosity rarely goes unpunished.
Regardless, it was the happiest day of my life. And as you know, there were many fantastic times with Patrick. And when he married Tara the three of us were inseparable. You were there for many of them... -20 degrees at Stanely Hot Springs, Olympic National Park, the North Cascades, the Bitterroots, the Floodwoods... more than I can count. We even spotted Bigfoot one time. Sun, snow, rain, they were all wonderful and I was glad to have shared some them with you. Feel free to share.
...Those good times seem so far away now. I can barely recognize the Patrick of old. He recently paid $100 for a used REI 4-season. $100? I won't even try to comprehend what that means about him... or me, for that matter. Recently, I overheard them offer me to a friend who's never camped before. Kind of symbolic isn't it? It's like I'm back to where I had started. I'm being thrust into this situation now but I fear my days of slaying dragons are behind me. It's becoming very clear to me the end is near. The day is close at hand. The day when the all too-honest price tag is placed upon my lapel. I'd like to be alone for a while, if that's alright.