memories of m.

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i had a dream about you last night.  i don't know
where we were - it was in some house that i didn't
recognize - and we didn't talk to each other.  you
looked at me, not knowing what to do or say and i
didn't really either.  but when you turned your back i
walked over to you, sort of scared, and put my arms
around you and hugged you for a long long time.  i
could feel that place on your stomach where your ribs
poke out a little and you were so soft and smelled the
same.  it was very vivid.  anyway, that's all that
happened and i've been thinking about you and don't
really know what to say.
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i went over to her place to get dressed for the big ball. such close, fast friends. applying our make up side by side in the mirror. watching her fret over what to wear, secretly almost-admitting to myself that i adored her in everything. her broad shoulders she hated, her dark brown hair grazing her shoulders, slender soft thighs, smooth dark skin, full breasts she never hid from me. because we were just friends.

she told me i looked tender and gorgeous in my white dress sitting on the white chair, opening my hand. that abandon in her eyes, endearing and disturbing. she and he, her boyfriend, convinced me to sleep at his place that night. i don’t remember falling asleep, but i remember waking to her beside me, her fingers gliding across me. drifting in and out of sleep, reality, folds of softness…then definitely awake and alert, full of deep internal questions, newness unearthed, desire confirmed. we never met eyes. never acknowledged. never spoke about it the next day. friendship as usual.

until the next time. again, with him in bed with us, sleeping six inches away, oblivious to our surreptitious wanderings of fingers, thighs, legs. once we laughed—awkwardly—about how it only seemed to ‘happen’ when we were in bed with him. how, perhaps, one guy and two best friends squeezed into a bed forced us past that barrier of never-knowing-for-sure and into each other.

again. night. we were with him on a beach. we laid over the rough sand on a thin sheet she’d brought. the moon hung low, the wind and waves were loud in my ears. the cityscape in the distance. my body alert to every movement she made beside me, every millimeter she drew closer. every tentative breath and gesture.  he was asleep, of course.  suddenly, a dark & wild shape flew by. all three of us leapt up. and looked. down the beach, a creature with translucent ears turned and watched us as we watched it. (my mind flooded with questions… he was awake now, too. was he distracted enough by this intruder to remain oblivious to the tremble that had already been in my throat? what was she thinking? what was i thinking?) the fox moved closer, arching around us on our little blanket. we froze and huddled together. it drew close to me, only me, and i drew closer to her, still looking down and away. i held my breath, fearful of this wild visitor. then she whispered. she whispered, “…Look it in the eyes and it will go away.” its face hovered a foot from mine. (why mine?) he and she held their breaths, watching for what I would do. i finally gathered my courage and moved to face it. in that second, the fox turned, walking away across the dunes. leaving me. on my little blanket. next to the wide, endless ocean.

 

- Anonymous, Bates staff

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