Well, if you've been reading along over the last couple of months you know that this blog's small snippets of prose and doggerel rhyme have told a tale about love as yet unfulfilled, but truly love nonetheless. You also know that your narrator, me, Eck Cohen, has certain gaps in memory over the last few decades, which were, unfortunately, chemically self-induced, if you catch my drift. See my bio, "Child of the 70's" indeed! Today's post is a letter written to me by OS's own "imprimis" to assist my recollection of all the details of one of our most important nights from 24 years ago. I post it so you guys can see the talent in her writing (She smokes me by a MILE!!) and so that our story unfolds just a little more. I received this letter in my OS inbox a few short months ago. I have read it a few thousand times, it is now one of my prized possessions. I hope you enjoy her writing as much as I do:
I remember, and while I am certain I can't do it justice putting "pen" to "paper", in my mind it is perfect and detailed.
I remember feeling soooo sneaky and laughing and very mature walking so late out onto private property. I felt SAFE. Which, in retrospect, considering some of the instances of my life, SAFE is a delicious euphoria. I've had enough of not feeling safe, of invaded and betrayed that I relish those moments where I am and was secure, unhurt and unscathed. This night has left me my entire life, feeling incredible and wistful. The moon was out shining brightly as we walked along private property, in search of a long dock. We knew we would be trespassing, but we didn't care. I was a kid, and as I wasn't damaging property, figured it would be OK.
The moon reflected off the gentle lapping of water against sea wall. I remember well the light humidity in the air, the hum of sprinklers chickchicking water over dry grass. The sky was clear as stars sprinkled overhead. Looking back, having found a long, dark, and warm dock to lay upon, it seemed as if someone had simply thrown up a handful of those stars and where they landed, they stayed, blinking out over the world, the moon, their beacon.
As a teenager, some memories linger with a strong sense of etched detail. This night was one such setting. Story book perfect, fairy tale magical, even a stranger would have sense the teenage angst of desire and excitement between us. I knew if hands even touched a sizzle would be ignited. My own sense of another was heightened and electrical, a thrill throughout my body. I was hoping for a kiss, heck, I would have been delighted and soaring through the heavens just to hear aloud anything positive about myself. I did not know, and I was wondering with a longing so intense I am instantly transported with full rememberance.
We'd spoken plenty of literary things such as author, plot, philosophy and fancied ourselves experts - at least, in MY eyes, he was. I thought then, and even so now, that he was the go to guy for all things deep and meaningful. A wisdom and maturity about him permeated the very air around us. He turned me on to Hesse and Rand. Simply listening to the cadence of his voice had me mesmerized.
I knew I was still in the ugly duckling stages, (but damn HOPING he thought I was pretty ENOUGH! :) - while I thought I was pretty, by no means was I beautiful. Come on, I wasn't THAT naive. ALthough, I was very naive in the exchange of affection between two people! There I was, half tomboy and half trying to be a woman, caught in growing pains and that growing place where maturity was taking its sweet time - physically and mentally!
I wish he had known that as I lay down on my stomach, listening to him, I ached in every part of me from toes to head, hoping he would just notice ME. I felt like I wasn't beautiful or worldly enough, if I were, he would have kissed me. But we were there, talking, laughing. What he DID do had my entire body on high alert, tingling, nervous, anxious, excited, and dying with desire.
He lifted the back of my shirt and began touching my back. I know his hand was warm. I can close my eyes and FEEL that moment right now, twenty some odd years later. I think I was fifteen, or seventeen and to me, as he was in his twenties, he was much older and knew EVERYTHING. The stroke of his warm hands, the light callous and the masculine feeling had me stock still, barely breathing, hoping and hoping he wouldn't stop. I never before had been touched by a boy/man, kissed = sure, but never had any part of my body ever been touched before. I was hooked. I am sure my attraction and appreciation of touch comes from that moment. His hand was strong, steady, sure, pushing, warm and all of me was completely aware of his touch. His hand touched my bra strap and he unhooked it. THAT had me nervous and thinking maybe this was for grown ups, or at least not for me. I mean, what did I KNOW?
I was hypnotized by his one hand rubbing my skin, as the night air caressed my back while the warmth of his hand did. I hoped he found me attractive and not too flat, not too freckly, not too boyish. I wanted him to turn me over and kiss me, to do whatever it was people who knew what happened next, did. Because I didn't know, and was such a virgin. He was talking the entire time he rubbed my back, and I tried to focus on his words but honestly, all I remember is the hot delicious touch on my skin. Like I said, I was hooked. I know I heard the water against the sea wall, and that there was a dim light overhead, and that the stars sparkled. What has lingered the most, the strongest, is how that one night of his touch, combined with his love of all things literary, captured me.
He used to stop by the house to visit, occasionally we would go grab a bite to eat or play golf. I also remember being caught in the rain on the local golf course and wishing I were older, prettier and al that stuff even then, because then he MIGHT notice ME and not just treat me as a kid sister. It was frustrating. I wanted his to push me against the tree, take my face in his hands, and kiss me long, lingering, and hotly. Of course I know this now but back then the feelings and emotions and physical desire was swarming all over me jumbled and tangled and hopeful. I did not understand the funny pit in my gut until much later, as it being desire and lust. I knew he was someone I would always feel a special affection for - even if he DID flip me on purpose off the trampoline in my parents back yard. I knew as he did it that he wasn't hurting me maliciously, but just because he was a boy!
I listened to his every word wherever we were, I felt like if I stayed in his presence long enough, I might just grasp what the grown up world was all about.
At a later date, I was invited to his wedding. Each minute sitting through that was misery for me. I wanted to scream, shout, cry and run away. How could he be so foolish, was I so ridiculous and tomboyish that I just WASNT pretty enough? Didn't he see that years later I wasn't the same flat chested tomboy with no make up and freckles, that I had grown, albeit small, but a firm bosom, a mouth that begged to be kissed, and gosh, that I above all others just loved him? I was angry, hurt and frustrated. I felt in my gut that marriage was wrong, but lacking maturity and feeling powerless, said nothing that day and after ward. I didn't want to miss the wedding as it was a chance to see him, but the misery was so ripping and deep that it stayed a long, long time. I lost someone I considered my best friend.
He was green eyes, curly haired, voice deep and resonating, wise, mature, worldly and beautiful. And he was someone else's, and I thought surely, she didn't deserve him, she would never appreciate him.
ANYHOW, it's late. I've written this without edit, and in the space of 15 minutes.
I hope I've done the memory SOME justice. I don't care about the mistakes, I mean, I CARE only because he learned some stuff the hard way and my heart aches for him. he's lost so much and I know he deserves happiness, joy, peace, and to be loved simply where he is for who he is - NOT for someone's idea of "what if" of what was. In my eyes, he has always been incredible, beautiful inside and out, and I think I missed a lot of time with him. I feel another sorrow because recently, he's back in my life and I had NO IDEA he felt for me how I have for him - and I DON"T know what the future holds - pushing it feels wrong, but loving him - just loving him, that feels so right.
If I could go back, I would have been braver and not so boxed into my christianity. I would have responded instead of lain there on that warm wooden dock, frozen with ignorance. I would have turned over and guided his hand onto my stomach, and encouraged him to roam. But I was a kid in so many ways and unlearnt in the ways of a man and woman. But still, if he tried, I would have kissed him back. I wonder even now what his kiss is like, if his lips are soft, warm, pushing and sweet. I can close my eyes and picture it. But....old fears what if I disappoint??
it's late and I need sleep.
I feel blessed. I think although we missed so many years that somehow, it will work itself out. ANd I pray, "Dear God, please don't let me hurt or disappoint that boy. He has an enthusiasm and care that reaches into my heart and grabs and runs with it. That sort of feelings and love is what I've been hoping for - and it IS hard to trust with all I've been through. I hope my love will help heal some of HIS hurts, if thats not too arrogant. I don't love just anyone, but I've wondered about him for so long. God, do you think he remembers me stopping by his work just to see him, or his apartment, or all those times we DID have together? Dear God, please let him have JOY and a woman who yearns to touch him and nuzzle his neck, even if it isn't meant to be me, give him what some would have him believe isn't his to have : JOY, PEACE, forgiveness, and the kindness of a touch. We all want to be loved without recrimination and I believe he is magical. Imperfect, flawed and amazing. Please Lord, give us one night on a dock, let me have the chance to listen to the timbre of his voice once again, leading me with ideas and stimulating my brain, and take me to places I"ve been waiting to go. Mostly, let him lay his head down and know, just KNOW, that if he reached, a hand is there full of unbridled joy and want, of admiration for the man he is, the father he is, and the heart of a lion that resides next to his spirit, that of a lamb, that he understands what I mean by writing that. Give him peace and passion without a price. Please, let him sleep soundly and rested. let him know he doesn't have to make excuses (doubt he will BUT) I just want him to share what his heart tells him is safe with me, and all is safe with me. Please, God, please if you are listening, ignite within him a spark, refuel his passion to taste life, and really - let him know he is a miracle. Amen"