While at my girlfriend's house over the weekend, she mentioned that she thinks saw an engagement announcement in the Suburban
of an old boyfriend of mine. Quickly, I rummaged through her stack of newspapers to confirm her suspicion. It was him, alright. My mind flooded with his memory....
In high school, my locker was in the auto-shop hallway. One day, a vision in flannel and tight, black acid-washed jeans sauntered by..... Slybone. He had the hottest body going and I fell instantly in love. We had mutual friends, so I muscled my way into the burnout crowd. After doing the usual, "Find out if he likes anyone...mention my name," game, I found out he didn't want a piece of this.
So I gots me a boyfriend from the playfag clique who was wicked smaat. And things were great until somebody had a toga party, to which everyone was invited. Since my boyfriend was more interested in watching Faces of Death
than hanging with me, I wandered off to the beer supply. And there he
was so we started talking. There must be something about a chick wrapped in a sheet cause the next thing I know, we're locking ourselves in an upstairs bedroom. The next day, I broke up with my boyfriend to be with Sly.
For a month, all we did was drive around, get stoned, listen to Led Zeppelin and have sex. Not necessarily in that order and sometimes all at once. One time, his mother came home early from work and caught us mid-coitus. Needless to say, I was not allowed back in the house. But whatever, that's what backseats are for.
But it got old real quick cause he was as sharp as a wet noodle. Not that we did a whole hell of a lot of talking but thirty days is my limit on finding subjects he could relate to for in-between session chatter. Besides, a little birdie told me my ex was still pinin' for the fjords.
A big group of us had planned a camping trip, so I figured I'd use it to feel out my ex (not literally). Told Sly I'd see him on Monday and off we went. With one disaster after another, it wound up being the camping trip from hell (but that's a whole nother story). And just when the ex and I are getting along, Sly shows up unexpectedly. Apparently, the rangers at the Delaware Water Gap will give up your name and lot number to any John Q. Public that shows up. I was pissed off and my ex spent the rest of the night getting wasted.
Sly and I sat by the fire and he told me, "I knew one of two things would happen if I came up here: either we'd break up or I'd fall in love with you. And I'm in love with you." And I was like, "Yeah, we gotta break up." He spent the rest of the night getting wasted.
Twelve years lapsed until I saw him again. He walked onto an uptown N train I happened to be seated in and let me tell you, he needed to be returned to the library cause he had FINE stamped all over him! It looked as if he grew a few inches, so his body appeared more svelte yet still very muscular. OhMiGawd, I just died! So delicious. Naturally, I had to talk to him. He seemed happy to see me so I figured, 'What the hell?' and slipped him my phone number before hopping off the train, in vain hopes he'd forgotten how I broke his heart a decade earlier.... No such luck.
Another high school buddy gave me her two cents on the subject: Give it a year then go in for the kill. Marriage= Celibacy