changing lives since 2003 (ms_pooka) wrote,
changing lives since 2003
ms_pooka

"i don't have memories, just mental images."

i never told you this, but on my second date with brian, up in suburbia, when we were driving around and picking up coors light because i told him my parents drank it when i was little and it doesn't taste like any other american beer i know of, he went to two stores to find me a box of tampons. he even went into the store by himself.

i had had icky skin earlier that evening and washed my face twice hoping to get my make up to cover it without making it look worse. my face just kept turning redder and flakier. i felt disgusting and boyish in vintage grey cords and a black tshirt.

he didn't even notice any of it.

when i arrived at his house, he showed me around and took me upstairs to his bedroom and tried to get ozzy to do back flips. i was all nervous because we were kneeling on the floor next to his bed. he was holding me there by showing me kitty tricks.

i'm generally very quiet with new people when i don't have alcohol in me. this is especially true where romantic interests are concerned. i was feeling the painful, sober silence as the passenger in his ford focus as we drove to the flying saucer. i thought surely he did not like me by the light of day and sobriety and icky skin and unflattering clothes.

he held my hand. he played me the new magnetic fields album on the car's stereophonic.

at the bar, i stressed each time i had to get up and make that lonely walk to the restroom. i was nervous i was being evaluated. surely he wondered why i would choose to look so awful when we were only on our second date.

after our beerfest, as we were walking back to his car, he stopped me in the parking lot and said i could sleep over if i wasn't fit for driving home. it was at that point i realized i had made no game plan for getting myself home. i felt transparent even though i was as opaque as could be.

when we arrived at his home, he plied me with the coors lights and his oversized dali book. it was then that he put on his bjork dvd. i had a player on my hands.

so the moves were on and, eventually, my shirt was off. we finally went upstairs to bed. he kindly removed those cords and held them up saying he would just lay them over there on the back of the chair. i hoped he hadn't noticed just how wide those things looked when you held them flat.

that night, we didn't "make love," as they say.

the following morning, i hoped he didn't notice how awful i thought i looked. he spent a lot of time observing my breasts and telling me they were perfect.

i asked him what he was doing for july fourth and invited him over to watch fireworks.

i took the long way home.
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