This isn't quite a story. Or maybe it is, but it's how you see it. To me, these are memories. The things that soar through my mind on pastime about the ones who've brought me happiness. Their neverending smiles and warm hugs have repeatedly pulled me out of the shit holes I blindly fall into. This is about the Lovers and the Loved.
Chicken Legs. Those were literally the first words I thought of when I met him. Known as the mouthful of "GTFO My Pancake!", or better yet- "Apollo"- was a hearty and huggy Blaziken who entered into my life.
Older than me, he always understood the problems and fits that I would have with others, whether it be once-friends, or parents. Ah yes, parents. They thought they knew better 100% of the time, but today's generation of common-sense teens just mutter a "tsk tsk" under their breath as they wait to be proven correct over something not so serious.
Apollo was one of the funniest guys you could ever know. But he was also respectful. Hopeful. Cheerful. His cover image would say "Zone 1: Why the fuck my peepee hard?", yet I would see his respectful side go out to anyone physically and emotionally injured of a school shooting. I heard it being passed around earlier today, silently shedding a few tears of my own. It was Valentine's Day. Kids and teens, and maybe adults...some woke up hoping a special someone would confess to them, or that they would confess to someone else. Chocolate roses, pink cards, candy and all was to be handed out. Others only pouted at not having a special someone...even though strangely enough they seem fine when literally every day before today has been like that. And for the other...others, it was nothing different at all.
But no, some of these poor teens and kids had to have their hearts broken, maybe some literally..as those with a closed heart showed no mercy upon the others.
And although Apollo, nor mostly anyone else in that matter, could fix it- he was still there. I loved that about him. You could tell him the weirdest things you liked. I know I did for a few. But he loved me all the same. The golden smile still rested on his beak.
Apollo was like an older brother to me. I never had one. But I had him. He showed so much love, I could practically imagine laying my head on that fluffy chest of his and almost feel it. Ever have one of those short fur couch pillows that are soft, but with a roughness to it? Yeah, that was like him. Except he was warm. And he hugged you back.
And as much as you could imagine your head on his chest, he could imagine his on yours. He'd always ask if he could lay his head on my belly, and I'd oblige. It was cute, really. To him, it was something soothing.
To me, I just smiled as I would lay there and listen to his gently breathing. His chest would rise and fall, and a steady heartbeat would make me smile all the more to know he's still there. Because he is still here.
