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  • I remember
    that gorgeous smile on her face
    and how brilliant it glowed
    with deep-seated joy
    and
    how it brought about immediate attention
    to the rest of her beautiful self,
    her stunning face --
    oh those hazel eyes,
    those lips and cheekbones,
    that clef chin,
    and
    as well to her striking body
    with those perfectly long dancer's legs
    and ultra slim waist,
    her alert and comely breasts
    and...
    well I could go on and on.
    .
    she
    was a goddess to me,
    as I'm sure she was to a lot
    of other people,
    mostly men to be certain
    after her first appearance
    as a centerfold playmate
    in a Playboy Magazine
    some years ago.
    in that issue
    she was introduced to the world
    as Ashlyn Martin.
    .
    yet
    I got to know her
    by her real name of Laura Lynn,
    her name said with the ease
    of honeysuckle gracefully hugging
    the strong trunk of a weeping willow.
    I remember that fateful evening
    that I was introduced to her
    by a mutual friend.
    there she stood,
    this great beauty,
    in the darkest part of the forest
    smiling at me,
    just a guy who suddenly had
    the blinding good fortune
    in meeting someone as spectacular
    as her.
    .
    and
    it changed
    my life forever.
    .
    after
    the first few minutes
    of being in her presence,
    I began to realize she was more
    than just a commodity of good looks.
    she was bright and intelligent,
    super sharp and witty,
    using words beyond my immediate reach,
    forcing me to secretly dig up a dictionary or two
    in order to keep up with her.
    .
    it didn't
    take me long
    to fall in love with Miss April.
    after all, she was everything
    I ever wanted.
    .
    when
    I was a 13 year old boy,
    I had to get away from my home
    shared with two parents
    who always argued and fought.
    in order to dodge their flak,
    I would roam the local streets and alleys
    as something to do,
    finding all kinds of neat stuff
    along my way.
    one time I discovered a dozen Playboy Magazines.
    I looked within those pages and found a lifestyle
    I could easily relate to
    and would be increasingly harder to ignore.
    especially the women.
    they were beautiful
    top-drawer types,
    mature creatures
    that I could easily see myself with,
    arm-in-arm in some near future.
    .
    and now,
    here it was
    being handed to me.
    .
    for
    many reasons,
    some even unknown to me at the time,
    Laura Lynn fell comfortably into my arms.
    I suddenly had the kind of woman
    I had longed for throughout my young life.
    she was every bit a goddess
    and I became her beneficiary.
    .
    but
    I would eventually learn
    a rueful truth about my girl,
    now my fiance,
    for in all regards
    we were perfect for each other...
    at least with what I could see.
    but what I couldn't see
    was about to reveal itself.
    .
    her
    explosive beauty
    started at a very young age for her,
    and within the grasp of great irony,
    that assured beauty had become
    quite fatefully an even bigger curse.
    from the time she was just a little girl,
    she fell victim to abuse,
    often by close friends of the family,
    as well as by the family itself.
    the many stepparents
    and trusted ones --
    fathers and uncles
    taking advantage of her innocent beauty.
    mentally-physically
    and of course sexually.
    it took little time to turn her inside out,
    embedding a dark psychosis
    within her young psyche
    where it distilled and mutated
    within the years to come,
    getting worse and worse
    even though she was quite able
    to keep it all locked up
    deep inside of her.
    .
    but
    something as this
    would eventually break free,
    causing all kinds of extreme
    and aberrant behavior.
    and when it did,
    she was diagnosed with having
    a particularly vicious disorder...
    a serious disease of severe mental illness.
    .
    it didn't
    matter to me
    what they called it.
    what mattered was that it
    took her away from me,
    often locking her up
    for great lengths of time
    in mental hospitals and institutions
    where things were always
    blurry and foggy.
    she'd forget my name
    and sometimes couldn't even recognize me.
    I figured that was mostly due to
    the advanced medications they plied her with,
    and from the stress of rigorous therapies.
    .
    yet
    I continued
    seeing her anyway,
    sometimes twice a day
    hoping against hope
    that we might resume
    our lovely little lives
    and stay to plan of getting married.
    I was in love with this beautiful creature,
    in love that much.
    .
    but
    no matter what I did,
    I was always met with bitter differences of opinion
    by nearly every doctor and nurse I'd talk to
    who seemed to relish taking particular aim
    at informing me that she was "gone."
    .
    she
    did show signs
    sometimes of normalcy
    in between her bouts of manic depression.
    but they didn't last long
    and were often punctuated
    by the demonic possession
    of a far greater mental illness.
    .
    I even
    tried taking care
    of her all by myself.
    of course that was a big mistake.
    I was such a fool to ever think
    I wouldn't get sucked through the gaping holes
    of something far bigger than me.
    .
    I also
    remember
    my depression that followed,
    the gutted feeling I had,
    the sheer eternal loneliness
    the break
    the cutoff
    the horrid end of love
    and
    the nothingness I could only do.
    .
    it was
    a startling fact
    that made me sick to my soul.
    but what could I do?
    I had to go on...didn't I?
    .
    I still wonder about that.
    .
    yet
    this was
    all so many years ago,
    but I remember it as though it were yesterday.
    oh the memories!
    35 years worth
    and how they live so well
    inside of me.
    .
    I can
    never look at beauty
    the same way as I once did.
    there's such a huge price for it...
    my poor baby.
    such an unrequited love
    never to see daylight again.
    .
    Laura Lynn
    lived another ten years
    before ending her precious life
    by an act of suicide.
    .
    I still
    miss her terribly.
    .
    .
    Photo of Laura Lynn
    by Pompeo Posar
    for Playboy Magazine
    .
    .
    ©2016 Miles Ciletti
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