2003-01-28 - 3:55 p.m.
'just a flick of a lighter's light'
I liken the time that's passed to an eternity, because I've lived lifetimes in the past three years alone. I've seen real sorrow. And life. And strength. And chemicals. And funerals. And death. I've worked the nine-to-five. I've gone to school. I've struggled. And raged. And I know that I wouldn't even recognize the me I was back then, if I passed her on the street. And she'd shudder if she saw me. If she knew what was in store for her.
But it all started in those days. When I was young in a good way. And he was the very first boy I ever thought was beautiful. Not hot. Or good-looking. Or cute. But, beautiful. And it was so deeply embedded in him that when I think about that, I wonder how I've ever seen anyone as beautiful since him. So, it was new and shocking. And I had the biggest 13-year-old girl crush on him. And for the life of me, I don't remember how it started. but I remember how it ended. And this one brilliant, shining moment in between.
It was a dance. A stupid, middle-school dance in a dark cafeteria. There were thousands before and even more after, but I only remember this one. I remember where he was standing. I remember how it felt. My heart jumping. Being closed in his arms. Dancing. My first real slow dance. I remember feeling warm and safe and alive for the first time. When we parted, we parted on ground so shaky, sometimes I wonder how I walked away without stumbling just a little bit.
As a result, though, I used have this dream. This reoccurring dream of happy reunions. And 'don't speak, I know.' Of everything it could have been if were just a little older. And a bit wiser. I think it's because he was the first boy I ever really felt for. And the first boy who never really hurt me. So I used to have this dream because he was so very lost to me. Then, suddenly, he was found. And I haven't dreamed of him since. I think there's a part of me that misses him, though. The him in my dreams. The one who's at a loss for words, so he abandons the notion of them and wraps his arms around me. I think I miss the him that never existed. That never could exist.
I'm over that now. I tucked it away with all the small things. With all the childish things. With all the things I used to be. Tucked safely and tightly in the chest behind my chest. And I only really pull it out on rainy days. Days where the walls close in and I'm reminded that I am so old. And have been dragged through so much. Days like today, when someone calls out of the blue and asks the questions that I got so tired of answering so many months ago. Days like today, when the brash struggle against the memories give my mind a rug-burn.
It's days like today that I want to be safe again. Wrapped in the arms of some middle school boy. At some middle school dance. In those middle school days. It's days like today.
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