Glory of the 90’s (a series), "1994 college boy"

1994 - I felt innocent as he lay next to me in the dark. I can still feel the mark of his fingers on my skin like invisible pulsation's of the past. Scarred by something I used to like. His breath like fog before my eyes. And I find myself in his warm embrace even now in memory. It's hard to abandon your past when it lives uneasily inside you. He was the other half of me I didn't want to recognize. I never wanted to know inside myself.

He fell into me as easily as he slipped out. All I can recall is the empty want and the flood of desires that drowned all other thoughts out when we touched. It's the stain of history seeping below the skin. He is a memory that won't fade, an apparition that wont leave me alone. It's like I'm 18 all over again. It's like I was never set free from this.

I used to think: If I am going mad I'd like to be left in silence. It's his good looks I hate the most ... they make me want to kick him when he smiles and flow like warm honey when he insults me in public.

Smacking was another way to impress me - cutting, biting, breaking, (not with weapons but with words, which always seem to hurt worse) - yes, ingenious boy that he was, he was fine when he was not genuine with me.

I craved one thing: that he could shatter me with his judgements. With his dirty jokes, his political incorrectness, his lies, his troubles, his full bodied resentments, his Republican southern/midwestern upbringing, with his St. Louis drawl.

I wanted to feel some of that anger he held so precariously between his fist and my face and never strikes...

He built another icy wall until I'm black and blue from bumping into them all afternoon.