Magic Moments
Where the Sunbeams End: Chapter 6
I’ve been trying to avoid going to the dark place. It’s a black hole in my subconscious. Sucking, pulling, gnawing, and eating. Everything ends up there, eventually.
We used to lay together on her couch, myself face down on my stomach, her on my back. She watched Desperate Housewives and Grey’s Anatomy; I just enjoyed feeling the weight of her. I’d fall asleep, tired from school and practice. It was a dream. She went to high school across town, but this is how we’d spend most week nights. I’d drive the short distance over to her parent’s place and stay until her dad would call her name from upstairs. At first they wouldn’t leave us alone together, but eventually they came to understand I truly loved her. And I did, but that still didn’t matter.
It was outside the Dairy Queen, down the hill from her neighborhood. We stood beside her old red Saab.
“I’m not leaving til I get a kiss,” I said.
We’d been putting off that first kiss for weeks. I didn’t admit it to her or to anyone, but that kiss was not only our first, but my first ever. I tried to push down my nerves as our lips met for that magic moment, but I probably did too much with my lips and I was still too unsure to try throwing some tongue at her. I thought it was an awkward first kiss, but as I drove home I couldn’t help but grin. I’d finally managed to kiss a girl.
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I can’t remember anymore. The only thing I can think about is a cigarette. I haven't had one in three days. I’ve been wanting to quit for ages, but at the same time I absolutely love them. I’m not convinced it’s the nicotine alone that keeps me coming back. That flavor is to die for, literally I guess. They pair so well with coffee, another vice that I’ve gone without today. I feel strange. Clear headed in a way. And now a memory from far ago does drift up as I fill my cup with just a bit of brown liquor. Whiskey, mother’s milk as my father says. The nectar of the gods.
I was young, bored, waiting in line at the bank with my mother. Running my hands along those red velvety ropes. Do you remember those? I started searching through her purse, mostly out of boredom, but also hopeful for some gum or candy. I gripped the pack of Benson and Hedges and brought it up to my nose. What a wonderful aroma! Oh, if only I could smell my first whiff of that luscious tobacco in my nostrils once again.
~~~
Early in high school I was what you could refer to as a model student athlete. No smoking or drinking and I wasn’t running around breaking young girl’s hearts. Although all of these things were certainly within reach. It goes back to Maryland again. My grandmother, Bubba as we knew her, raised me in a way. She helped raise all of us to a certain degree, my cousins and me. My mom would drop me off at her place early each morning before school and Bubba would walk us down to the bus stop. My cousin John and I were the oldest; I’m the eldest grandchild by a few months. Then John, followed by Ian, Ray, Lucas, and later came Abby, Ren, Max, and Delaney.
Bubba and most of my father’s side of the family is Catholic. Although I never felt as if I was being force fed Catholicism, I will admit that being partially raised by a devout Catholic woman does leave a lasting impression. Most of it I believe was positive and helped build a solid moral foundation. However, I’ve also come to feel as if there is so much guilt and fear tied into the Catholic view of the world. Especially when it comes to sex. Catholics, certainly not every Catholic, because I myself, although not practicing, am Catholic. I was baptized Catholic, and if I were forced to choose a religion I would have to say I’m Catholic. Anyways, I just said Catholic way too many times, but I get the idea that a large portion feel that there is no greater sin than abortion, and that every sperm is sacred. There seems to be such a strange, almost fascination with sex. Intellectually I disagree with this view, yet for me, relationships and sex have always seemed to be overly important. I’ve never been able to just sleep with a woman and bid her goodbye in the morning, at least not without great shame and guilt.
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The bell would ring and she would waltz over to me, hips swaying. She’d ask for a piece of gum; I always had gum. She’d fiddle with my t-shirt, fixing the edges of the sleeve as I reached into my pocket. Then she’d pop the gum in her mouth and we’d flirt a bit. She’d get close and I’d grab and squeeze her ass. She’d smile up at me.
Eventually she invited me over to her place. How could I say no, she was a goalkeeper just like me and I loved her. Obviously I didn’t tell my girlfriend about it, but I would behave myself. A little flirting and ass grabbing wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like I was married. We sat and talked for hours, laughing together deep into the night.
The visits became more frequent and the excuses for my girlfriend more pathetic. She loved Shrek. We would put that movie on and just enjoy each other’s company. Each visit brought us closer together until the sexual tension was more than both of us could handle. I pulled her on top of me, finally giving in. A flurry of lips and tongues, both of us completely lost. My hand reached down the back of her pants, searching desperately. My fingers doing their own dance. Her breath quickening and quickening. Our embrace seemed to go on forever. Only brought back down from the heights of ecstasy by the sound of parent’s footsteps or the buzz of a cell phone.
This was our routine for a while. Finally she got brave enough and reached down my pair of shorts. Then it all exploded, both physically and mentally. I didn’t even manage an erection, it just went. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but it took a firm grasp of my penis to really hit home. The familiar feeling of guilt surfaced and I thought of my girlfriend. I told her I had to leave shortly after, and I’m not sure I ever went back.
I was in love with two girls at the same time, but the guilt and shame I felt following that release was mind blowing. I guess I probably could have tried to love both of them, but that didn’t feel fair to either one. I knew my girlfriend couldn’t handle a breakup, so I chose her. In my fucked up head I thought I had to protect her from the truth. She was too fragile in my eyes and so I made my decision. I’m sorry to have broken the goalkeeper’s union, not sure I broke her heart, but it wasn’t right what I did. I found myself at a crossroads and I chose my path, perhaps poorly.