I Remember Now

I remember the crisp, new feeling of rebirth on the first day back to school. Every electrified nerve in my body bristled against that skin tight, fresh pair of unfaded Levis. Every ghostly kilojoule of my soul hurled me towards those smooth-bodied tender gifts waiting to be unwrapped on cool autumn nights by clumsy, sex-drunken hands.

I remember the all-encompassing hormone induced narcossis, in which the key to control of the universe lay in a hastily scrawled phone number on a crumpled note passed in class, or understanding what lurked behind a coquettish smile in the hall. For a short time, those moments possessed the romantic urgency of a first burning orgasm or a first sweet tongue tracing braces on a Friday night.

Now, I am at a crossroads. I am once again entering an ultra-excited era of optimism --unencumbered by the soul-sucking shackles of matrimonial underachievement. I am once again becoming that teenage heat-seeking missile of a kid. I am once again a free spirit on the hunt for the fair exchange of kindred human comfort.

Problem is, I am scarred-over and bruised by a year of previously unimaginable turmoil, deceit and betrayal. I am now more fully aware of the sullied, drab reality of adulthood; the profound disappointment in those you thought were friends; the redirection of energies into rebuilding the heart and soul; and the burden of memory. I am now gun-shy at wasting precious thoughts and touches on the unworthy.

You know, I've always welcomed change like a long lost lover. But I have to say, my heart could really use a syringe full of teenage naivete plunged inward right now. Who knows, perhaps the fall winds will blow a suitable opiate my way?

Thanks for listening, K