What should I call this post?

Trust. It is something I have always struggled with, a thorn in my side. But a few nights ago something revolutionary happened. It was a life altering event for me. After years of struggling to trust, the thorn was finally removed. I opened my heart and my mind and shed my inhibitions about having faith in another human being.

This event, you ask. Well, it goes like this. I let a blind man season my food. No, really. (I had you going didn't I?).

My neighbor Walter and I have become pretty good friends. I'd say we are the highest definition of good neighbors. We help each other out. He makes sure I get a decent meal from time to time, keeps me from getting lonely, and entertains me with a myriad of fascinating stories about his life. When I was getting rid of the fleas (yes, they were fleas after all- how embarrassing), he let me sleep on his couch for a week. In return, I help him read his bills, sometimes read his homework assignments, and he rides to church with me on Sundays. It's a symbiotic friendship unlike any I can remember.

Walter is a wonderful cook and can work his way around the kitchen better than most seeing people I know (especially me). I mean, he can turn powdered cheese into a creamy, yogurty, garlicky, super-sauce for broccoli and keep me from burning the shrimp (how does he know?) at the same time. It's fascinating to be around him when he cooks.

The meal in question was a chicken breast that he cooked for me on the Foreman. He coated that sucker down in seasoning salt, sesame oil, onion powder, lemon pepper, and kosher salt. It took every ounce of strength I had to not to put a paper towel between the onslaught of salt and my poor baby chicken. But I restrained myself. I waited and watched. And hell yeah, I ate. It was wonderful. The tastiest, moistest chicken breast I have eaten in a loooooong time. Walter surprised me yet again.