Random Writings

sss

Sarah was my first.

She still haunts me to this day. Especially when I stand staring into my bathroom mirror, razor dripping in one hand, and lose focus. The feeling of slowly divorcing from reality and from myself and staring at the reflected half-shaven stranger is almost more terrifying than the knowledge that the marks she left - the three inch scar on my left shoulder blade dug by her index finger and the penchant for roughness encouraged by her throaty admonishments - have now been with me longer than she was.

Susan was my second.

She cornered me in a dive bar near campus. She was a townie - off-limits and dedicated to keeping it that way. She demanded a cigarette, a light, and a seat. Later demands, later in the alleyway beside the bar, in the cab, and in her one room apartment over the sole chinese restaurant, involved shutting up 'my university bullshit' and putting my tongue to better use. She never gave me any way to find her, called and demanded immediate attention, never paid for anything, and routinely bit me as she came. I was in first year and I was in love. I got up the nerve to tell her one day and brought her flowers. I never heard from her again.

Sandra was my third.

We had an art class together. I walked into the class on the first day of the semester - feeling full of summer and sunshine - and saw her sitting by the window. We sat together. We were spinning wheel partners and shaped innumerable pots and vases and got covered in clay and accidentally brushed hands and then arms and legs and bodies. By the third week of class we were regularly leaving early to get high in her dorm room. By the fourth week we were leaving early to get high and naked. I learned two very important things: a woman's neck is the most beautiful thing on this planet, and I will never be a potter.