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19

June 6, 2011

An entire person who can vote and join the army ago I was 21 years old, thinner, with better skin, less stretch marks and nothing but time and a legal ID to drink laying before me. I was pretty slutty lo those years ago but moving to a new town, after a few instances of slippage I thought I would try to not look for a boyfriend. To be on my own. Or maybe try to make out with some more girls to see if that would work out but there was a charming cute boy. All sense of magic ruined by probably my instant clingy nature and his complete and utter lack of feelings for, well, most everything. adjacent to this boy was another-because-isn’t there always another-boy who had impossibly bushy eyebrows, light blue eyes, sweaty palms, nice teeth and long strong legs. The first night we met playing pool I thought that it was weird to think some dude with braces was kinda hot but he swore they were coming off in a week or so because HELLO I like to feel like I am in 8th grade again and wondering if I will get a fat lip from kissing him like I did with Todd on Tracey’s porch. We held hands in the dark and talked about art, politics, our past, our hopeful futures, where we had come from and what we wanted to do. We went on a real date on June 8, 1992 to the local movie theater to see A Night On Earth by Jim Jarmish. We held hands, kissed because he did indeed get his braces off and I thought to myself he tasted like the future. I drew pictures in my diary of our imaginary house, our imaginary furniture and added up all the books we could own if I actually had an apartment to live in instead of the boats and small lent spaces I had been occupying for the last two years. I wrote about that I thought I would marry him. Could marry him and that I loved him. The boy with the bushy eyebrows was shy and sweet but kind of perverted. He liked to cook and owned more shoes and jackets than I did and always dressed like I would if I were a boy. He was sensitive and kind with his head inside himself mostly. He rode his bike and roller bladed and was like a super jock with lean arms, a flat stomach and nice ass. He thought I was pretty and told me. He told me he loved me after a month of kissing and finally-in my one room apartment (I can’t pick the word to use, sex, fucking, making love-they all sound kind of gay) we wake up together. Its lovely and I get up to pee to discover I have my period and have nothing in my apartment. Without much fuss he got dressed and asked me specifically what I wanted and went to the local drugstore and bought me tampons. Just like that. I myself have always been embarrassed to buy them and when I asked him if he was embarrassed he looked at me practically and said they obviously weren’t for him so what would he big deal be? They’re just tampons. Now I am not trying to say that I fell in love with him because he bought me tampons. That’s crazy. I am saying I fell in love with the first and last person who really cared about me. Cared for me during the mundane nitty-gritty existence of life and I thought this would be a man to trust. A man to care about.

And care about him, I do.

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