Sometimes we go through life without second chances, or even a single break; never knowing what may have been. Last Thursday, I got a peek behind that curtain of uncertainty.
Jimmy. God-he was 17 to my 21 when last we met. Or even spoke, for that matter. Jimmy was my very first kiss. Quiet, gentle, and it happened in a light snowfall for Christ’s sake. And anything but innocent. He knew what he wanted…and it terrified me. Because I was so attracted to him in return, and he was 4 years younger than I. Because of Jeannie’s father who raped me from when I was 7 until I was 13. Because I was terrified that I was a pedophile for wanting what I did with him. So we caroled when I was 17 and he was not. And my heart did machinacions only possible to yogis and tiny Ukranian gymnasts. As it turns out, his uncle kissed me only days later, and shortly thereafter left the church we all attended.
I have waited a lifetime for him to come back into my life. He did. And I ruined my chance of simply friendship by mania so overpowering i have never been in the grip of something so strong.
Jimmy, although you may never know, you helped me deal that day with waking up to go bury my mother. For that and so much more i thank you.
For telling me that I am beautiful and that the music of my body is all you’d ever need–for that and more. I will always love you.