Memories of Marissa

Her name was Marissa. Her boyfriend overdosed at school one time and I never grabbed another pair of boobs after hers. They were perfect. I needed no additional pair in my life after that. There was nothing else I could pursue in that department. To me, she was perfect. To her, all she saw was the mole on her cheek. I thought it was adorable. She thought it was fugly.

She slapped me one time. So I threw a Gatorade bottle at her and chipped her tooth. I probably shouldn't have done that, but she shouldn't have slapped me either. Maybe it was sexual tension. We made up and she still kissed me after that. It was her fault and she knew it. I never loved another girl after her. I never will. I've tried and broken a couple of hearts since her, so I've just given up on that altogether.

We were opposites in every single way. I was tall; she was short. I was fat; she was thin. I had curly hair; she had straight hair. I couldn't make this up if I wanted to. Even our zodiac signs are such that they are complete opposites - a virgo and a gemini. Imagine that.

I hang on to her for dear life. She is a symbol of my youth that I will only let go when it's time to go, but it's one of the memories that keeps me alive, if only ever so faintly.

I always said I'd find a way to be better than I'd ever been and I guess in a way, I am. I had other things in mind and while I still have time, I find myself counting the specs of sand in the hourglass sometimes.

Will I achieve an acceptable fraction of the things I set out to do?

Will I make it through another lifetime or two?

Did Marissa overcome her addictions and traumas?

Did she go to college?

Is she in prison?

Is she alive?

I hope she's alive.

I hope life didn't hit her as hard as it hit me. I hope it didn't change her as much as it changed me and I hope every change she's made has been for the better.

I wish I had something to say to her.