Chapter 2 - A bad idea

When we are young we tend to use our brains in a different fashion then when we are older. We look at the world in a unique way, everything is black and white, and there is very little gray. As we age, we tend to see more gray with black and white around the edges as our perspective on the world broadens.

I looked at my life, mostly my love life, and thought "The reason no one loves me like I love them is because I am a virgin." I thought if I gave in, and did what EVERYONE else was doing, then my world would be perfect. I had lost the 'love of my life', Ken, because I hadn't slept with him - yeah, that was the reason. It couldn't have been because he was a low life, scum sucking, self-absorbed, needy asshole - no. It couldn't be something lacking in him, it had to be something lacking in me.

So, I made up my mind, that when I found a suitable (it wasn't just the next guy, I did have standards) man, who wanted to have sex - this time I wouldn't say no. And that was exactly the thought process. It wasn't about love; it was about having it done with. Get rid of it, and then life will be fine, just like everyone else.

A couple of weeks after the wedding I got a call from Rett and he wanted to go out. We ended up going to a small English style pub downtown. We sat and talked for hours. He was intelligent and funny and he seemed to genuinely care. At one point during the conversation we got talking about age and I discovered he was younger than I, not by much, but enough to make me insist he show me his drivers licence to confirm. Yup, he was born on March 4th, 1959 - a year and a half younger.

I remember when he brought me home after that date, I was sitting in the passenger side of the car (of course) and it was a large car from the late 70's, so there was quite a distance between us. Rett didn't like the fact that I chose to sit so far away from him, so before he started the car, he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to him. He had a habit of 'grabbing' - it wasn't rough at all, but he was so deliberate in his actions. There was no hesitation, he wanted me closer - he wanted to kiss me - he wanted me.

Memories are peculiar. If you talk to two people who have been through exactly the same event, each one will remember different details. I think it comes from our personalities and what we find important in life - those will be the details that linger. We also edit our memories over the years to make them more palpable, easier to live with.

I have been blessed or cursed with a good memory. It is something that I inherited from my mother's side of my family. Most times in my life it has served me well, but it is a double-edged sword, for it means that forgetting is just something I can't do. I remember things from before I was two years of age with exactitude. Smells, sounds, textures are burned into my brain. I have never had good eyesight and my other senses have always made up for my shortcomings with my vision. God's way of compensating I guess.