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In an effort to learn, I shall write...
I suppose my first man was my father (and if you know me, you'll consider it a bit sicko, but hey 'tis my story).
When my father was good, he was very very good. When he was bad, he was wicked. My father thought I was dreamy and special and enchanting and magical and he was never there and narsissitic and bashed my trust right in the head and claimed my loyalties as only deserving to him by telling me that I couldn't love him and my stepfather at the same time. I tried to rationalize him out of it, but he used the condescending logic with which every very intelligent narsicissist is equipped.
The anger for those two things brewed inside and is probably still cancerously there.
My stepfather ignored the shit out of me after I was cold and diplomatic always with regards to integrity towards my father (who I only saw once or twice a year and spoke with on the phone maybe once in my life). Basically, he was just an entity that provided for my mother and I and watched teevee with her and was nice to me at new years or sporadic times - very unpredicatble his love was.
Ah, but let's get to the part where I had power and interest: the first manifestations of copying my parents and the world by playing at love.
Eddie James was my first love. I met him in second grade at Rosa Taylor Elementary in Macon. He was funny. At recess, it was he and nerdy/smart Richard and I. I had a big crush on him. Later, I was told it was strange to always play with boys, so I drifted towards the girls. I never felt I quite measured up to them. I was from a wounded family. I have even myspace searched eddie.
After that, it wasn't until fourth grade that my heart surrendered again.This one was John Lummus. I had just arrived at this new school (macon to marietta). He was the boy who sat behind me and liked to pull his desk out from behind me when I leaned my chair against it. Oh it was flirting, and we talked a lot. I was in with the girls here. It was my first of many threesomes of friends. After John and I were "going together" via heated negotiations from our respective seconds, I accepted via checking a "yes" box. I proceeded to ignore him from then on. I was too shy once such things were stated.
Russell Sams always had a crush on me. He was John's best friend and blond. He was the infamous nervous breakdown in 4th grade kid (before I got there). I liked him as a friend but was annoyed at his pestering. Finally I went with him in sixth grade and our relationship was a disaster. He got angry with me. I have called Russell Sams in my twenties just to catch up, but it was a tentative thing, and I hung up after three rings.
(My first kiss was an anomoly - Darren Holtzclaw at the 8th grade dance planted one on me on the dance floor. It was tongue et all, and I went with it fine and chastely. I didn't kiss again until Dan.)
Then, nothing until John Denmark in awkward high school. I had a huge crushon him and nothing came of it but fevered and dissecting chats with friends and feeble dramatic hopes.
The first real boyfriend I had was Dan the Man. He was a senior to my junior. He brokered a date with me through my friend Elizabeth who had trig with him. We met at the waterfountain, and I only went with him because my friends pressured me ("but this is what we dateless squadron of amazing girls DREAMS of. You MUST go.") and he had said a nice thing about me and seemed so ardent. He had said that I was beautiful and didn't even know it. We went out to a restaurant. He took me in his honda civic. We listened to bands I had never heard - like the smiths and the cure and the violent femmes. He turned me on to it man. After dinner, we went home chastely. Our next date (he had to come to the house as I was 15), we went to some park and talked. I was clearly and constantly nervous. He asked me if he could kiss me. It was such a sweet request. He did. It was a rather unmemorable kiss. I was too inexperienced to deal with it. We fizzed out just when I was getting into the role and he told me he was going to six flags and I never heard from him or saw him again. Oh, I called him all right. I also have bit pen marks over his face in my yearbook.
The next beau was Dave Gober. He made me laugh. We met at K-Mart. He wanted to marry me. I laughed. I had fun with his 21-year old friends and he. He was a good nice guy with a sarcastic edge. He was a bit of an outsider like me. Our last date, I gave him a blow job and never spoke to him again. He once was in Athens and screeched at my door and left horrible answering machine messages. Dave taught me ethics. I hadn't realized I could pain someone so.
Then off to College and Chuck. Chuck deserves his own story page.
A rush and a push and the land that we stand on is ours....
Uneditedly and misspelt,
ms. martin
P.S. I am quite glad I knew all of you boys - even the hard stuff. Thanks for being in my life.
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