I have boxes that I move from one place to the next, leaving them unpacked and unused. They contain my journals from the days when my triumphs and failures were written down painstakingly by hand. Endless pads and notebooks lie untouched in there. They also contain photo albums of yore, from the days when you had to take film into the camera shop and have them developed, and photos were expensive and precious.
I was … Continue Reading
It must have hurt like hell, but I can’t remember.
My best friend of my teen years. We were inseparable. A set. Always the two of us. Our names running together as if we were one whenever anyone talked about us, invited us anywhere, was looking for us.
“Are MariaEnSharyn coming?”
She was the funny one: social and likeable. I was the smart one: confident and caustic.
I loved her with an obsessive … Continue Reading
They look impossibly soft, your lips. Cushiony silken velvet. They beckon me when your mouth forms words. I know you are speaking to me, I’m listening, truly I am. And my eyes will flick up to yours when I answer, when I move the conversation forward, then they will drop to your lips again as you speak to me some more.
I’m hypnotised by the movement of your mouth, the glimpses of your teeth, the … Continue Reading
Twice I have had men in my life say to me that they couldn’t come and see me.
Twice they were remote from me and there was an unspoken agreement that they would visit when they had the chance. In each case, it was a big trip, a long trip, but a given. It was what we did, what we needed to do.
Twice they used similar words, strange to hear them tripping out of … Continue Reading
I read a post on The Drew Duality that stirred up a flurry of tiny memories.
Drew had a bad night with his partner, not because of some huge fight, but because of a couple of exchanges where his partner hurt him unintentionally.
It’s a post about expectations and saying the wrong thing.
We all have our moments of ‘wrong responses’ to things, and have all been on the receiving end of them also. And … Continue Reading
I was tiny, a child, maybe 3 or 4 years old. I don’t know.
His name was Johnny. He was not a child. He was a grown man, the son of one of my parents friends. I have no idea how old he was, but he wasn’t an ‘older boy’, he was a proper grown up.
He was a in the navy, I must have seen in him in his uniform at least once. I … Continue Reading
[SubmissiveGuyComics is also doing a post for our NaBloWriMo project, though he’s hiding some of them on Twitter so if you aren’t following him, you should… ]
I sometimes jokingly say ‘once upon a time when I was a lesbian…’. It sounds frivolous, and it is a lighthearted reference, but it refers to a really important part of my life, and one I struggled with, though perhaps not for the obvious reasons.… Continue Reading