Oh, I Have A Choice?

Sadness and loss. That was probably the real bond with Calamity Jane. Not all the misanthropic bravado. I've picked heroes whom I either look up to or see eye-to-eye with. Calamity and I were eye-to-blurry-sad-angry-eye. How does one crawl out of protective armor and does an eye-to-eye hero help or hinder the escape?

Hinder. Here's why.

I had found someone who solved her sense of loneliness, vulnerability, and sorrow by being a bad ass. This had great appeal to me in my teens and early twenties, living on my own as I did. Back then, I never cried. I never revealed weakness or need. And I slew any and all who tried to finger their way past my defenses. I was a. . .select a metaphor:

• Hermit crab
• Brazil nut
• Saguaro cactus
• Armored knight
• Oyster
• Chocolate-Dipped soft-serve from DQ
• Cowgirl with a revolver and whiskey breath

Anything soft on the inside, hard on the outside. That was me.

Though not all those hard-out/soft-in possibilities are alike. Some, like hermit crabs, will die if they are separated from their outer shells for too long. Other than the occasional times they swap shells and for one split second show their pale, exoskeletonless rears dragging behind them, hermit crabs stay protected. But an armored knight can chose to shed his metal suit, set it by a walk-in fireplace in a big drafty castle and go on to live a happy life. It's a matter of choice for the knight. And the cowgirl.