— by Diane
It was a time when we each believed ourselves to be exactly what we then were. He, more accomplished than I: having served in the army, parachuting out of airplanes, ex-high school football player, GI Bill college student, tall, maybe good looking, looking, lonely and horny-for the right girl-looking. Me: more worldly,verbal with a honey dripping tongue telling lies that promised more than a single night of stillborn sex, hiding secret, inciting drama, drifting, looking, lonely, good looking high school dropout with a college graduate’s vocabulary.
That we met in a bar seemed only coincidental then and for years after. Neither of us had read Shakespeare. We knew nothing of sharks or Wall Street. He drank and I wallowed in pity for my past.
Our true selves grew apparent with each life crisis. As unmet needs demanded feeding, as childhood instruction tapes ran endlessly in our brains, when we could no longer rely on physical might and the fantasy of lies, we became our true selves.
When we met, the seeds of our characters had only set out their first pairs of leaves. The pale greeness of patience, endurance, hope and resolve had yet to harden off and produce buds. Then, we were only as Mother Nature had insured us to be: young, beautiful, fertile and eager to combine our DNA. Our understanding of human failings were shadowy figures in a misty background. Hate,struggle, fear and guilt had appeared as small bruises on our bodies. Bodies that would, one day, carry great gashing battle scars.
We stood, each on our own pedestal, as the young do, glorious specimens of physically strong and beautiful human beings. We stepped down from those high places to walk through the mud and excrement of the years.
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