Okay, I’ve spoken about my first kiss. Now how about my best kiss?
To fully put you in the picture……..I must go back to 1997. My wife had gotten pregnant to another man, and I subsequently moved in with my boss (a lady of course). She then in turn dumped me for a stupid reason, but I shall talk about this particular episode in a later entry. However, it was this chain of events which led me to the sweetest kiss of all.
So here I was finally living by myself for the first time. The only “company” I had was my computer and the internet. I had recently discovered the amazing world of instant messaging – in particular, ICQ. Though I never really chatted to anyone in any major way (at least not that I can remember). One night though, this woman from upstate New York named Breana messaged me and we began chatting.
Looking back now, I find it amazing that I could ever chat to anyone with such vigor. These days it just seems so boring and mundane. Most people are crazies or scammers, or simply just plastic people with nothing better to do. But back then it was quite exciting. To think that you could chat to perhaps 100 people from 100 different countries all in one night, and it cost practically nothing. The world was literally your oyster. I actually thought technology had reached it’s peak. What could be more ground breaking than this? It was kind of thrilling to hear the “Uh Oh” of an arriving ICQ message. It told me that I was apparently not boring enough for my chat partner to go. It told me they wanted to chat with me….and keep chatting. They were really exciting evenings!
So when Breana started chatting, it was just as thrilling. She didn’t chat to me with simple one worded responses. She actually asked questions, listened to what I had to say and conversed as though I was in the room with her. More importantly, she seemed to genuinely care about my recent women problems, and offered insightful support and understanding. She honestly made me feel good. She literally took away my sorrow! It got to the stage where she was the most important part of my day. You couldn’t imagine my thrill every day after I came home from work to see perhaps 5 or 6 messages waiting to be read from her. I even started coming home for lunch to have a quick 45 minute chat with her then go back to work.
Okay, to cut a long story short, I was falling for her. Who could believe? Internet romance? How was this possible? But it was true. There’s so much more to this story, that there really isn’t any time to tell it all here. After all, this is my “kiss” story isn’t it?
So let’s move forward 8 months……..I moved to be with her in New York. There was never a doubt in my mind. I was never worried, scared, nervous or upset about giving up the world I knew to be with this woman. I was just totally happy and relaxed…perhaps even giddy.
We hugged tightly at the airport when we first met. I remember asking her if she felt nervous. She whispered “yes”, but I replied with “Don’t be”. I admit, even though I had no regrets in going there, I felt a little insecure about myself, and whether I was really what she wanted to see in real life. But soon we were heading back to the little town in which she lived (courtesy of her sister and brother-in-law who were driving to and from the airport). The images I remember about that drive were of the massive lightning bolts that splayed across the sky on the way there, and of looking at Breana sitting beside me. For some reason I remember looking at her nose and cheeks and thinking how soft and smooth her skin was. Weird huh?
We stopped to get something to eat along the way, and I’m not really sure how it came about, but we started kissing right then and there beside the car. And no, this wasn’t the kiss I am going to talk about, but it was a great kiss nonetheless! I kind of get the feeling, that this car park kiss was kind of an “ice-breaker” thing. For 8 months we had been romantic over the internet and phone, and perhaps the sexual tensions had been running overly high. So this was like, “let’s just get this awkward opening moment out of the way now, then relax for the rest of the trip”. Maybe it was also a way to confirm that what we were doing was right and justifiable. That after all this time, we should perhaps put ourselves to the test and see if the sparks flew in reality, rather than in our 8 months of fantasy.
Anyway, as I recall, Breana was a great kisser. The reality of it all was that she was a better kisser than anyone I had ever known before. Whew!
We eventually arrived “home”, and though there was still a few more awkward moments of nervousness, we soon settled into a nice little companionship. Unfortunately I am a little fuzzy as to the precise time of when THAT kiss occurred, but I can tell you this much…
All I know was that I was in the kitchen with her. Breana was a short woman, but so adorably cute and gorgeous. I don’t know who initiated what (but I sense that is was probably her), but we kissed each other. You know that saying “I just melted”? Well that is EXACTLY what happened to me. There is no better way to describe it. Even though my head, memory and senses are still reeling from that kiss, I do remember her lips were soft and her arms were around me. My body just went limp. I have no idea how I kept from falling down. All I think I can say is, it was a combination of many things for me. It was her beauty, together with her femininity, coupled with her soft lips, the passion of her intent…and most of all……..the feeling of genuine love I felt for this woman. I guess that feeling of love can only feel that wonderful if I believed that she loved me too. I know for a fact I had never felt it before (or since). I was literally living inside a cliché – I melted, my heart skipped a beat, my head was spinning, time stood still, nothing else mattered, it was magic. I simply was purely in love….and my “inner camera” took an “emotional snapshot” of the moment, that has stayed in the “internal photo album” of my heart and mind. (Wow! How was that for a line?)
If Breana wanted to keep me with her, she succeeded in the ultimate way that time. So there you have it. I wish I could’ve remembered the exact date! I think that every subsequent kiss I’ve had since then (with other women), have never been that exciting. I guess Breana ruined me for anyone else……….but I don’t care, that kiss belongs to me and no one can ever take that away :)
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
The DJ Blues....
Well just for a change of pace (and avoid the school days stories), I want to mention the DJ job I did over at Magnetic Island on the weekend.
I took the 9:00am vehicular ferry over on Saturday. Even though the wedding gig was scheduled for 6:00pm that afternoon, I always like to go over early to set up the equipment, tweak the cords and cables, and suss out the best entry and exit strategies for before and after the reception. Basically, I want things to go smoothly with no surprises or problems for the happy couple. Nothing is worse than having your wedding ruined by lousy music.
Anyway, it was a cool morning, and the ferry ride was lovely. By 9:45am I was at the reception place (Magnetic Island International) and hauling my equipment in. Even though I took my time, I had finished setting up by 10:45am. Everything was working, in place and looking great!
Since I had many hours to kill, I decided to drive to Horseshoe Bay on the other side of the island, and take a short nap in the small park there. Horseshoe Bay is the calmest bay I have ever seen....always there are NO waves lappng at the beach. It is large and tranquil, and is a popular place for families to come. Though on this day (being that it's Winter here), it wasn't that busy, so I had a very pleasant nap under a tree, ocassionally opening my eyes to see the calmess of the bay. Total paradise!
At about 12:30pm I decided to go and have some lunch. But first I just sat under the tree to soak in the sights again. Then a bus pulled up behind me, and some people got out - and this little girl walked right by where I was sitting. She must have been perhaps 4 years old. Perhaps I looked odd to her, because she stared at me all the while whilst walking by me. But it wasn't a rude stare; she smiled a friendly smile as if to say "I'm having such a fun day on Magnetic Island and nothing can dampen my mood, and just wanted to say hi". She was so very cute! :)
Then I noticed something - the poor little dear had her left arm severed just above the elbow. It didn't appear to be a deformity, it was obviously an operation that happened early on in her life. My heart sank! :( Of course she wasn't stressed in any way, but seeing her innocent pretty little face, it just made me feel so sorry for her. She soon walked away with her family...and after gathering myself, made my way to a local hotel there for lunch.
Later, I killed more time by soaking up the sights of the other bays, then going into the reception area again to once again fine tune my equipment. I decided to get dressed into "DJ" mode at about 4:30pm, and figured I just stay until the guests arrive. In the meantime, I played some of my favourite songs.
The guests starting showing up on the dot of 6:00pm and I got into "work" (if you can call playing music "work"). As fate would have it, that same little girl was amongst the wedding guests! She was dancing and playing with other little girls and having a great time. Obviously her ailment had been around for some time, as the other little children took absolutely no notice of it. Though one of them took the little girl's arm as if to hold her hand at one stage.
I actually began to feel tears in my eyes. This poor little girl was so innocent (or perhaps mature), that the realization of the horror of her injury was never in her thoughts for a moment. It didn't seem fair that she was like this, and I really felt awful. I think maybe I felt so bad, not because of her plight, but because of how brave she was for someone so young. I'm not sure she was well adjusted because of her young age, whether it was because it happened a long time ago or simply because she was mature enough to comprehend what happened and able to move beyond it. Obviously I had trouble :(
I think we all could've learned something from this little angel. I really wish her a safe and happy life.
I took the 9:00am vehicular ferry over on Saturday. Even though the wedding gig was scheduled for 6:00pm that afternoon, I always like to go over early to set up the equipment, tweak the cords and cables, and suss out the best entry and exit strategies for before and after the reception. Basically, I want things to go smoothly with no surprises or problems for the happy couple. Nothing is worse than having your wedding ruined by lousy music.
Anyway, it was a cool morning, and the ferry ride was lovely. By 9:45am I was at the reception place (Magnetic Island International) and hauling my equipment in. Even though I took my time, I had finished setting up by 10:45am. Everything was working, in place and looking great!
Since I had many hours to kill, I decided to drive to Horseshoe Bay on the other side of the island, and take a short nap in the small park there. Horseshoe Bay is the calmest bay I have ever seen....always there are NO waves lappng at the beach. It is large and tranquil, and is a popular place for families to come. Though on this day (being that it's Winter here), it wasn't that busy, so I had a very pleasant nap under a tree, ocassionally opening my eyes to see the calmess of the bay. Total paradise!
At about 12:30pm I decided to go and have some lunch. But first I just sat under the tree to soak in the sights again. Then a bus pulled up behind me, and some people got out - and this little girl walked right by where I was sitting. She must have been perhaps 4 years old. Perhaps I looked odd to her, because she stared at me all the while whilst walking by me. But it wasn't a rude stare; she smiled a friendly smile as if to say "I'm having such a fun day on Magnetic Island and nothing can dampen my mood, and just wanted to say hi". She was so very cute! :)
Then I noticed something - the poor little dear had her left arm severed just above the elbow. It didn't appear to be a deformity, it was obviously an operation that happened early on in her life. My heart sank! :( Of course she wasn't stressed in any way, but seeing her innocent pretty little face, it just made me feel so sorry for her. She soon walked away with her family...and after gathering myself, made my way to a local hotel there for lunch.
Later, I killed more time by soaking up the sights of the other bays, then going into the reception area again to once again fine tune my equipment. I decided to get dressed into "DJ" mode at about 4:30pm, and figured I just stay until the guests arrive. In the meantime, I played some of my favourite songs.
The guests starting showing up on the dot of 6:00pm and I got into "work" (if you can call playing music "work"). As fate would have it, that same little girl was amongst the wedding guests! She was dancing and playing with other little girls and having a great time. Obviously her ailment had been around for some time, as the other little children took absolutely no notice of it. Though one of them took the little girl's arm as if to hold her hand at one stage.
I actually began to feel tears in my eyes. This poor little girl was so innocent (or perhaps mature), that the realization of the horror of her injury was never in her thoughts for a moment. It didn't seem fair that she was like this, and I really felt awful. I think maybe I felt so bad, not because of her plight, but because of how brave she was for someone so young. I'm not sure she was well adjusted because of her young age, whether it was because it happened a long time ago or simply because she was mature enough to comprehend what happened and able to move beyond it. Obviously I had trouble :(
I think we all could've learned something from this little angel. I really wish her a safe and happy life.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Ditto......
Bloody Hell! What's a kid gotta do to get ahead in life?
I moved from Queensland to New South Wales, and unbeknowest to my parents and myself, the "starting school" age in New South Wales was 6 years old, and not 5 years old like in Queensland. So this meant I had to do Grade 1 all over again! Which isn't all bad I guess. I look back now and feel this is perhaps why I always did well in my grades - because I was a year ahead of everyone. Not that doing 2 years of Grade 1 would've elevated me to "rocket scientist" status, but there was always that edge over the other students I felt.
There was not as much weeping this time round though. I recall having many friends and excelled in sports and studying. I believe there may have even been the first inklings of male bonding and mateship. Though as always, there were bad/sad moments. Throughout the year, I had been collecting little cartoon stickers (or decals) and been pasting them on my school bag. It had gotten to the point where I had just about every square inch covered, and I was the envy of all my schoolmates. I was very proud of my collection! However, one day after class, I discovered someone had ripped most of my decals off. I was in shock and very upset and do remembering crying over this. Of course this is what we expect some kids to do, but even back then I couldn't comprehend why someone would do this. It was something I could never dream of doing to another kid. It was worse than "naughty". It was like blasphemy!
But what could I do? Over the months, I rebuilt my collection, but it never got to the peak of the last one. I remember some older student said to me "Getting your stickers back mate?", and it made me feel good. I felt as if someone knew the pain I felt, and was giving me support to keep moving forward - and at the same time he implied that whoever did this was mean. It was the kind of thing I needed to hear.
We spent two years in this particular school. I remember being the big supportive brother to my younger sister when she joined the next year. I recall seeing my brother getting into a fight with another kid after school and thinking beforehand, "Wow! Big bro will teach this kid a thing or two". After all, he had his dukes up in what I thought was a very professional boxing stance and not backing away. However, somehow the other kid managed to throw a single punch to my brother's nose before he even had time to blink, and big brother dropped to the ground like a sack of spuds. Thus ending the fight! I don't think he was hurt, I just think he had sense to stay down. The thing was he stood his ground, even if it was for 2 seconds.
I was no tougher. I remember the games of rugby league I used to play in the schoolyard. Whilst I loved the sport, I loved running, I loved tackling......I did not like BEING tackled. Many a time I would shout to my team mates "Hey, don't throw the ball to me, I just want to tackle!" But even that proved painful once. I recall this huge boy running directly towards me with the ball. I stood my ground and waited for him to dart to either side of me - but he didn't, he kept on coming towards me. This is odd I thought - can't he see I'm here blocking his path? Why won't he start dodging and weaving and ducking, trying to wrong foot me? Too late....WHAM! He careened right over the top of me and knocked me backwards. However, I held onto him, and he came down with me. I'd tackled that sucker! Though slightly winded and dazed, I had a great sense of accomplishment. It wasn't so bad to get a little rough. After that, being tackled didn't bother me as much.
Oops! And what was this? I once again had a girlfriend. Caroline was her name this time. This lass had cute dimples and was simply the "girl next door" type. As much as I'm embarrassed to say this, I somehow remember my friends holding her as I planted a kiss on her cheek (or was it her friends holding me with her kissing me? I'm not too sure.) It was that time of life when we knew boys stuck together and girls stuck together, and more often than not they were looked upon as the enemy. There was this game of tag (kind of) where the girls would chase the boys, and if caught, we were put behind this glass door (we thought it was more like a trap), and it was named Kiss Girl Corner....eeeek! Strangely enough, these kinds of games continue to occur as we get into our adult years. It really is just a reconnaisance thing, to suss out, explore, test the boundaries, question and ultimately conquer our fears about the unknown.....namely, the opposite sex. We didn't have to play the Kiss Girl Corner thing...but we did, and we liked it.
I even asked my mother if I could have money to buy Caroline a gift. She gave me $5 and I bought a bangle that looked like gold with blue crystal around it. I can't recall actually giving it to her, but I remember her wearing it. It felt good to give her a gift. This feeling of giving has never left me.
Unfortunately, there was this other girl - Lisa, who apparently loved me, though I thought she looked rather dorky looking. She used to follow me home after school, and want to hold my hand and all that mushy stuff...eeeeek! As much as the romantic I was. even at that age, I remember being very selective in who I deemed attractive and "girlfriend" material, and Lisa wasn't one of them. My mother used to laugh at me when she spied Lisa running after me - but I was quick, and she never caught me!
Then that time came again, the family moved back to Queensland the next year (1973). It was a bit more touching this time around. I remember a school friend dropping something over to my house, and I informed him of my up and coming move the next week and that I'd probably never see him again. He kind of stood there speechless. I wondered what went through his mind? His mother was waiting for him in their black car parked on the road outside. He left, went to the car, but stood there for about 15 seconds just staring at the car. It was almost as if he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know what words to use, or what he wanted to say. He slowly got into the car as he said "Okay seeya". He just seemed numb. I remember as I watched him I felt sad for him, because he felt sad because of me. Little did I know, this particular feeling would infiltrate my life for many, many years to come.............
I moved from Queensland to New South Wales, and unbeknowest to my parents and myself, the "starting school" age in New South Wales was 6 years old, and not 5 years old like in Queensland. So this meant I had to do Grade 1 all over again! Which isn't all bad I guess. I look back now and feel this is perhaps why I always did well in my grades - because I was a year ahead of everyone. Not that doing 2 years of Grade 1 would've elevated me to "rocket scientist" status, but there was always that edge over the other students I felt.
There was not as much weeping this time round though. I recall having many friends and excelled in sports and studying. I believe there may have even been the first inklings of male bonding and mateship. Though as always, there were bad/sad moments. Throughout the year, I had been collecting little cartoon stickers (or decals) and been pasting them on my school bag. It had gotten to the point where I had just about every square inch covered, and I was the envy of all my schoolmates. I was very proud of my collection! However, one day after class, I discovered someone had ripped most of my decals off. I was in shock and very upset and do remembering crying over this. Of course this is what we expect some kids to do, but even back then I couldn't comprehend why someone would do this. It was something I could never dream of doing to another kid. It was worse than "naughty". It was like blasphemy!
But what could I do? Over the months, I rebuilt my collection, but it never got to the peak of the last one. I remember some older student said to me "Getting your stickers back mate?", and it made me feel good. I felt as if someone knew the pain I felt, and was giving me support to keep moving forward - and at the same time he implied that whoever did this was mean. It was the kind of thing I needed to hear.
We spent two years in this particular school. I remember being the big supportive brother to my younger sister when she joined the next year. I recall seeing my brother getting into a fight with another kid after school and thinking beforehand, "Wow! Big bro will teach this kid a thing or two". After all, he had his dukes up in what I thought was a very professional boxing stance and not backing away. However, somehow the other kid managed to throw a single punch to my brother's nose before he even had time to blink, and big brother dropped to the ground like a sack of spuds. Thus ending the fight! I don't think he was hurt, I just think he had sense to stay down. The thing was he stood his ground, even if it was for 2 seconds.
I was no tougher. I remember the games of rugby league I used to play in the schoolyard. Whilst I loved the sport, I loved running, I loved tackling......I did not like BEING tackled. Many a time I would shout to my team mates "Hey, don't throw the ball to me, I just want to tackle!" But even that proved painful once. I recall this huge boy running directly towards me with the ball. I stood my ground and waited for him to dart to either side of me - but he didn't, he kept on coming towards me. This is odd I thought - can't he see I'm here blocking his path? Why won't he start dodging and weaving and ducking, trying to wrong foot me? Too late....WHAM! He careened right over the top of me and knocked me backwards. However, I held onto him, and he came down with me. I'd tackled that sucker! Though slightly winded and dazed, I had a great sense of accomplishment. It wasn't so bad to get a little rough. After that, being tackled didn't bother me as much.
Oops! And what was this? I once again had a girlfriend. Caroline was her name this time. This lass had cute dimples and was simply the "girl next door" type. As much as I'm embarrassed to say this, I somehow remember my friends holding her as I planted a kiss on her cheek (or was it her friends holding me with her kissing me? I'm not too sure.) It was that time of life when we knew boys stuck together and girls stuck together, and more often than not they were looked upon as the enemy. There was this game of tag (kind of) where the girls would chase the boys, and if caught, we were put behind this glass door (we thought it was more like a trap), and it was named Kiss Girl Corner....eeeek! Strangely enough, these kinds of games continue to occur as we get into our adult years. It really is just a reconnaisance thing, to suss out, explore, test the boundaries, question and ultimately conquer our fears about the unknown.....namely, the opposite sex. We didn't have to play the Kiss Girl Corner thing...but we did, and we liked it.
I even asked my mother if I could have money to buy Caroline a gift. She gave me $5 and I bought a bangle that looked like gold with blue crystal around it. I can't recall actually giving it to her, but I remember her wearing it. It felt good to give her a gift. This feeling of giving has never left me.
Unfortunately, there was this other girl - Lisa, who apparently loved me, though I thought she looked rather dorky looking. She used to follow me home after school, and want to hold my hand and all that mushy stuff...eeeeek! As much as the romantic I was. even at that age, I remember being very selective in who I deemed attractive and "girlfriend" material, and Lisa wasn't one of them. My mother used to laugh at me when she spied Lisa running after me - but I was quick, and she never caught me!
Then that time came again, the family moved back to Queensland the next year (1973). It was a bit more touching this time around. I remember a school friend dropping something over to my house, and I informed him of my up and coming move the next week and that I'd probably never see him again. He kind of stood there speechless. I wondered what went through his mind? His mother was waiting for him in their black car parked on the road outside. He left, went to the car, but stood there for about 15 seconds just staring at the car. It was almost as if he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know what words to use, or what he wanted to say. He slowly got into the car as he said "Okay seeya". He just seemed numb. I remember as I watched him I felt sad for him, because he felt sad because of me. Little did I know, this particular feeling would infiltrate my life for many, many years to come.............
Sunday, March 16, 2008
And in the 5th year........
From all accounts I was a very shy boy, very innocent - and not a brat like a certain percentage of 5 year olds were. I remember my first day of school. As my mother was registering me, I recall seeing a cat, and petting it, and my first impression was that "this was a nice day". But as it turned out on that January morning in 1970, I was a typical weeping child, missing my mamma, the instant she waved goodbye. I'm not sure if I cried all day, but I distinctly remembered balling my eyes out & running to my mother at the end of the day!
From what I remember, I was pretty much like that for the first few months, even when my older sister and brother literally took me by the hand each school day and reassured me that everything was alright. One bright thing each day was unwrapping the 5 cent piece from the corner of my handkerchief that my mother had put there so I could buy a "Long John" (a flavoured icy pole) from the tuckshop.
Apart from the occasional bully stamping his wanna-be authority and trying to claim my toy Matchbox cars for himself, I discovered I was a fairly bright student, learned quickly, and school wasn't so bad after all. I found that I wanted to learn quicker than other kids, and probably took unnecessary shortcuts to stay ahead. But it didn't really matter, it was Grade 1 after all. Things weren't so complex then. One could afford to take shortcuts.
I made friends easily, and loved any sporting activities. I was a bit embarrassed however in that I still had not learned how to tie up my shoelaces. Heaven help me if any of my friends knew I couldn't do this. So whilst all my school chums took their shoes off for foot races, I kept mine on, which of course hindered my performances on the track. So when I came a close second in one particular race, I realized had I had my shoes off, I probably would have won. It was probably around this time that I made an effort to learn to do up my shoelaces. But I learned at home of course!
I must ask myself these days, when is it that boys start to notice girls? I look back now and can't comprehend how kids can be "boyfriend & girlfriend" at such a young age. Of course it can't be for the reasons us adults get involved with each other....so what is it? Just human nature? Well whatever it was, I got myself a girlfriend in no time. Her name was Joanne. She had short blonde hair, beautiful smile and crystal blue eyes. I have no doubt now that she grew up to be a real stunner. So lucky me had this girlfriend whom I always held hands with - even whilst sitting next to each other in class - even at the end of the day whilst walking towards my mum. I'm actually laughing about this now - just WHAT possessed me to have a "girlfriend"? I don't recall having an urge to kiss her, or to spend time at her place. The only spark of memory I have is that I just felt it nice to be in her company. It was her friendliness and beauty which was appealing. It was soothing to be around her. And it's funny, at that point in time there was no finger pointing or mocking from our peers. Just good clean innocent "friends".
As much as I loved her company, I don't remember feeling depressed when my family moved to another city (and state) at the end of that year, and I never saw her again. Perhaps for a child, life is one big adventure, and a change of scenery is like a new cartoon episode. Last week's show is long forgotten, and one always looks forward to next week's.
I guess I'd find out what was in store in Grade 2......
From what I remember, I was pretty much like that for the first few months, even when my older sister and brother literally took me by the hand each school day and reassured me that everything was alright. One bright thing each day was unwrapping the 5 cent piece from the corner of my handkerchief that my mother had put there so I could buy a "Long John" (a flavoured icy pole) from the tuckshop.
Apart from the occasional bully stamping his wanna-be authority and trying to claim my toy Matchbox cars for himself, I discovered I was a fairly bright student, learned quickly, and school wasn't so bad after all. I found that I wanted to learn quicker than other kids, and probably took unnecessary shortcuts to stay ahead. But it didn't really matter, it was Grade 1 after all. Things weren't so complex then. One could afford to take shortcuts.
I made friends easily, and loved any sporting activities. I was a bit embarrassed however in that I still had not learned how to tie up my shoelaces. Heaven help me if any of my friends knew I couldn't do this. So whilst all my school chums took their shoes off for foot races, I kept mine on, which of course hindered my performances on the track. So when I came a close second in one particular race, I realized had I had my shoes off, I probably would have won. It was probably around this time that I made an effort to learn to do up my shoelaces. But I learned at home of course!
I must ask myself these days, when is it that boys start to notice girls? I look back now and can't comprehend how kids can be "boyfriend & girlfriend" at such a young age. Of course it can't be for the reasons us adults get involved with each other....so what is it? Just human nature? Well whatever it was, I got myself a girlfriend in no time. Her name was Joanne. She had short blonde hair, beautiful smile and crystal blue eyes. I have no doubt now that she grew up to be a real stunner. So lucky me had this girlfriend whom I always held hands with - even whilst sitting next to each other in class - even at the end of the day whilst walking towards my mum. I'm actually laughing about this now - just WHAT possessed me to have a "girlfriend"? I don't recall having an urge to kiss her, or to spend time at her place. The only spark of memory I have is that I just felt it nice to be in her company. It was her friendliness and beauty which was appealing. It was soothing to be around her. And it's funny, at that point in time there was no finger pointing or mocking from our peers. Just good clean innocent "friends".
As much as I loved her company, I don't remember feeling depressed when my family moved to another city (and state) at the end of that year, and I never saw her again. Perhaps for a child, life is one big adventure, and a change of scenery is like a new cartoon episode. Last week's show is long forgotten, and one always looks forward to next week's.
I guess I'd find out what was in store in Grade 2......
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