Two Three Zero: Shower

A Story, then. I'll sit here tonight with a bottle of sparkling lime water and add a Story. A lovely girl sent me this years ago--- almost a decade now. She always told wonderful Stories. I of course was desperately in love with her all one lost summer. We'd talk on the phone for hours--- sometimes literally all night. She broke my heart in the end, but she'll always be someone I remember.

Anyway, dear friends and readers...a Story for my archives:

I was 15 when I first showered with a boy. It was my boyfriend at the time. His name was David. He was 17. I used to sneak over to his house when his mother wasn't there. That's when we would do things like shower together. It was more fun than sexual in a way. I suppose it's always been that way for me. Even when I've had sex in the shower with men, it's always been playful rather than sensual.

We were both each other's firsts in terms of any sexual acts aside from intercourse. I think the reason that we never actually did have sex was because I was a little scared, and he was sure he was corrupting me. He would get very depressed about it. I recall him crying about it while dropping me off at my house one night. He didn't want to make me do anything too early in my life. I thought he was being completely ridiculous and told him so. But I think he always felt guilty for doing anything sexual with me.

However, he didn't refrain from hitting on me years later when he was drunk at a party. He told me that I gave much better head than his girlfriend. I didn't sleep with him that night either.

I found this, too. From earlier in that long-ago summer. She copied it from a blog she had in those days and emailed it to me. She called me "my Doctor" or "my Older Man". One of the few times in my life when my doctorate did anything positive for me.

She wrote this:

I'm loving late nights on the phone, a soft voice on the other end. My Doctor. He's inspiring and beautiful in so many ways I can't explain. When we're talking, the whole world washes away and it's just the two of us. I have major, major fantasies of running away to another country with him.

My Older Man introduced me to Neko Case:

"I can say that I've lived here in honor and danger
But I'm just an animal and cannot explain a life
Down the chain of days I wished to stay among my people
Relation now means nothing, having chosen so defined

And if death should smell my breathing
As it passes beneath my window
Let it lead me trembling, trembling
I own every bell that tolls for me."

Fucking beautiful.

Neko Case... I still love Neko Case. How many times have I listened to "Hold On, Hold On" and "Deep Red Bells"--- a couple of hundred times each?

It's a melancholy thing to not be part of story arcs. It's a melancholy thing not to be someone to whom a lovely girl will confide her dreams and her adventures.  I miss that. I miss her particular voice, of course, and I miss thinking that my own life can be shaped into stories,  or that a lovely girl might want to lead me out into adventures for the two of us.