When I had my first attempt at blogging, I had another title and url here on Blogger. Then, I lost my umph. When trying to access this blog yesterday, I accidentally found my old one that I beleived to be lost to the world. It was interesting to me to read some things that I wrote 2 years ago. Unfortuneately, I am not web-blog-techie-literate, and so I can not move the old posts here. I can't even figure out how to copy & paste them. All I can do is post a link. Any advice would be appreciated for future reference. Until then, please click on the link below for past entries.
WARNING!!
This first one is very boring and basic, so I will post the second entry right below it!
http://risingofashes.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-am-here.html
http://risingofashes.blogspot.com/2006/09/is-robbing-bank-such-bad-thing.html
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Dear Jeremy,
You were my first kiss. My first sexual experience. I did not lose my virginity to you, mainly out of fear. I was 13. You were 17. I did not want to get pregnant. I think I may have loved you in a young girl's adoring way. You were fun and a great kisser. You made me feel things. Things that I never knew could feel so good.
I remember that summer. Finding any excuse I could to go to Little Caesar's Pizza to see if you were working. What a flirt you were! But you did make me feel special, if for no other reason than to get into a 13 year-old's pants. But that didn't happen, at least in the coital sense.
One of those afternoons, you called me. Of course I was home alone, you knew that. Mom was at work and big brother was staying at college for the summer. I met you at the high school. I am not really sure how long it took, but at some point you kissed me. I was wearing a hideous pink outfit. Tee shirt trimmed with pink lace and matching pink spandex shorts trimmed with the same lace. Ugh, I shudder to think about that outfit now, 17 years later. We were behind the cafeteria, across from the entrance to the music rooms. Remembering this, it seemed like we stood there kissing for hours. But it was probably more like 20 minutes. I am not clear on how we ended up back at my house. Did you convince me that it was a good idea? Did I insist because I was so scared of someone seeing us? It doesn't matter now; we went there.
I would not let you into my bedroom, no matter how much you tried. I would not even lay on the couch with you. We stood. Me against the wall with you pressed against me, letting me know indiscreetly what you wanted to give me. Then you against the wall and me vulnerable and needing air. I let you touch me. There was no force, other than convincing flirtations of a cute 17 year old. Oh that touch....
I remember wanting more and more. At least once in my life I was smart enough to say no. I take that back. I have said no many times, just not nearly enough. I always told you no. Maybe because I always knew that you would never be with me. Why should you have been? I was 13. Looking back, it was kind of creepy. But I don't hold that against you.
I have seen you from time to time. The last time was probably 5 years ago at 3am at White Castle. It was weird for me. I mentioned that I named my son Jeremy. You kind of smirked. I did not name after you. It was one of the only names my ex-husband and I could agree on. I hope you are doing well.
I just wanted to say thank you for never putting too much pressure on me and for my first kiss. It was nice and definitely memorable.
You were my first kiss. My first sexual experience. I did not lose my virginity to you, mainly out of fear. I was 13. You were 17. I did not want to get pregnant. I think I may have loved you in a young girl's adoring way. You were fun and a great kisser. You made me feel things. Things that I never knew could feel so good.
I remember that summer. Finding any excuse I could to go to Little Caesar's Pizza to see if you were working. What a flirt you were! But you did make me feel special, if for no other reason than to get into a 13 year-old's pants. But that didn't happen, at least in the coital sense.
One of those afternoons, you called me. Of course I was home alone, you knew that. Mom was at work and big brother was staying at college for the summer. I met you at the high school. I am not really sure how long it took, but at some point you kissed me. I was wearing a hideous pink outfit. Tee shirt trimmed with pink lace and matching pink spandex shorts trimmed with the same lace. Ugh, I shudder to think about that outfit now, 17 years later. We were behind the cafeteria, across from the entrance to the music rooms. Remembering this, it seemed like we stood there kissing for hours. But it was probably more like 20 minutes. I am not clear on how we ended up back at my house. Did you convince me that it was a good idea? Did I insist because I was so scared of someone seeing us? It doesn't matter now; we went there.
I would not let you into my bedroom, no matter how much you tried. I would not even lay on the couch with you. We stood. Me against the wall with you pressed against me, letting me know indiscreetly what you wanted to give me. Then you against the wall and me vulnerable and needing air. I let you touch me. There was no force, other than convincing flirtations of a cute 17 year old. Oh that touch....
I remember wanting more and more. At least once in my life I was smart enough to say no. I take that back. I have said no many times, just not nearly enough. I always told you no. Maybe because I always knew that you would never be with me. Why should you have been? I was 13. Looking back, it was kind of creepy. But I don't hold that against you.
I have seen you from time to time. The last time was probably 5 years ago at 3am at White Castle. It was weird for me. I mentioned that I named my son Jeremy. You kind of smirked. I did not name after you. It was one of the only names my ex-husband and I could agree on. I hope you are doing well.
I just wanted to say thank you for never putting too much pressure on me and for my first kiss. It was nice and definitely memorable.
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