The Anatomy of Nostalgia - Part 2

About A Girl1

I’ve spent two days in the desert and already it feels like an eternity. I can’t help but watch the setting sun give way to intense hues that reminded me of the dying Michigan leaves and a girl I used to know. 2

She lived only a few miles from my parent’s house on the outskirts of town. Her house was nested in front of a large pond that disappeared into the thick Michigan foliage. It was at her birthday party I would meet her. At the time she was dating my best friend. I know this because I stole her from him.3

It was something in her eyes – a contained mischeviousness that longed to explore the bounds of all human emotions. This was the first time I was awed by the opposite sex. My words faultered at every step I took around her but it wasn’t long before I began to stride.4

It’s funny how the past creeps up on you. In this awkward place, the only thing that seems to beckon is nostalgia. One can’t help but think ‘Is this real life? Is this what it is to grow old?’ What was it that made my mind stir and my heart skip a beat when the days long gone echoed in my soul? Was it the way she kissed me? Was it the way she breathed on my neck as my fingers urged her to cum? Was it the quiet boat ride through the autumn leaves? 5

Or was it and shall ever be about a girl?6

A Text From Me To You7

When you’re away from someone you have a crush on, a month might as well be an eternity. It’s amazing how a fling can come on at any time, anywhere. For me it was AIT with a girl I hardly knew.8

Never before have I been taken by someone with just as much interest in me. It was her brown eyes and raspy voice, a deeper voice I found next to irresistible. She seemed so different and yet we were so much alike.9

I have always been rebellious, eager to laugh and shoot that devil-may-care smile of mine. She was raised opposite. Opposites, after all, attract. I seen an undying loyalty, a longing for love and affection I’ve never seen before. She want me to be her escape from a failed marriage. I was happy to oblige.10

When she left for a month I wanted to die. Our fling at the bar left me with an understanding that she wanted to be a mother, a wife, a lover. Five hours and $120.00 poorer, we left that bar. She beckoned to kiss me again, invoking feeling I thought dead. I would tease her lips, her tongue and I knew I made a lasting impression.11

When she left for a month on convalescent leave, we texted one another with teases of what we would do to one another. She swore she was falling for me. I already did.12

When she returned it fell apart. A natural fallout really. We rarely and I ended up with her friend. I still have her number. I still wait to get her text message.13

Why I Fight14

As fast as faces come and go in the military, they often become the best friends you will ever know. Gene Siner from Lousinana, George Sheetz from South Carolina, Terry, Richard and Nolan Smith – Indiana, Michigan and Alaska, Ricky Wickman from Cali, Chelsea Webb, Nicole Webb, Chris ‘Canada’ Stephenson, all faces long gone but I know who they are, what they do, I know their life, their problems, their fears and ambitions. I knew they like I know myself.15

People ask ‘How can you take a bullet for someone you only known for a few months?!’ I never answer. They don’t understand. How can they? I’ve been through a lot with my friends back home but these faces are more than friends, they are family.16

A Cleansing17

It’s 0530 and already I feel like shit. The stiff cot I sleep on is no picnic and I find myself waking up numerous times during the night from intense dreams of old friends and lovers. Choking down chow was tough.18

My tender stomach, already nauseated, tries desperately to hand the small pieces of steak and eggs I’ve been served. The smell not far off from old gym socks and raw ball sweat. The taste is even worse. I only finish a few small pieces.19

In the desert you learn a lot about yourself. I started writing short little pieces like this, thinking they could somehow get the demons out. So far it seems to be working. Confirming what I already have trapped in my heart and mind on paper has excercised some old feelings, casting them into the ether. Hopefully not to return.20

An Honest Goodbye21

I was in AIT, knocking back a few beers at the local watering hole on post when the winds of nostalgia blew through my mind. My fingers dialed an old girlfriend I haven’t talked to in months. The last girl I fucked before I left for the Army.22

To be honest, I never wanted to date her. I explained my reasons for leaving and assumed she understood. Not well enough, I suppose. To this day she implores that I could have gotten out of going. She never really understood why I couldn’t or why I wanted to leave.23

She was a smoking hot girl, perfect tits that complimented a tattooed pin-up body of old. In fact she did some small time modeling gigs. What she lacked was a style to her hair and face. (Mohawk and shaved light eyebrows aren’t for everyone) Still, she was a good fuck before I left.24

She was a depressing thing at times, playing the poor man’s hand from a middle-class deck. I’m sure she had her problems but it was nothing she couldn’t fix with time and effort. I think she liked remaining desperate though.25

After I left I thought it would be over between us. What better way to break off a relationship than joining the military?! However, when the winds of nostalgia kicked dust my way, I couldn’t help wonder what she was up to. So on the beautiful, sunny August day, I called her.26

Needless to say, she was not thrilled with me. Funny how I expected it. Aside from the usual depressing ‘my family is broke’ routine, it was odd to hear that she got pregnant with my kid. My heart forgot to beat at that moment.27

I had made the mistake a million guys have made – lovin’ without glovin’. However, at the time, she was adamant to imply she was on birth control. Apparently my paratrooping sperm dropped behind the enemie’s front line defenses and continued on to carry out the mission to end the war. I was impressed to hear of such a simple victory.28

She proceeded telling me the sob story: She miscarried after 3 months and had to get some operation to get fixed. ‘How will I model now that I’m all scared up?!’ she cried. I felt bad…but not as bad as I should have.29

After more conversation, her mood switched entirely from ‘I fucking hate you!’ to ‘I miss you…come home!’. I’d like to thank my light-hearted humor and ability to capture the audience for the Oscar award on this one. She implied she wanted to see me when I come home – more than likely to kill me.30

Either way I never visited. I tried to talk to her but she relapsed to bitterness. Needless to say she still hasn’t gotten over a mistake we both made. I don’t talk to her anymore. That was my honest goodbye.31

Sex32

I think the most overrated part of a relationship is sex. I’ve never seen cuddling or one’s cooking ability break up a relationship. I know what you’re thinking, I say this because A.) I am shitty in bed or B.) a one-pump chump. I assure you quite the opposite. I always give 110%. I won’t go down in history for it but I will go down on your sister. Eric knows this well.33

I have, however, been in only one real relationship that offered phenomenal sex. Our problems most definitely did not extend to the bedroom. I need not name her for sake of your perverted little minds…but she was European. The sex started out good and quickly excelled to unbelievable. 34

Gentle sex, rough sex, kinky sex, passionate sex, dirty sex, soft sex, hard sex, loud sex, quiet sex, forbidden sex, wet sex, dry sex, toy sex, long sex, quick sex, everything but bad sex. Did we break up over it? No. But we have had a few run-ins after the break up. Nothing like a good long fuck and smoke to really brighten your day.35

Bourbon on the Rocks 36

The worst part of drinking away your young years isn’t the aftermath of a long night, it’s not remembering. I drank so heavily that people need to help place time and events together. An unnecessary evil.37

To date I’ve slept with over a dozen woman. Funny that I have a strange feeling that it was more, however, it will be forever clouded by a drunken haze. Same with my 17th to 21st birthdays.38

Regardless, I love to drink. Bourbon on the rocks is the weapon of choice – a heavier, bolder drinking. I love the scent and taste and since I began drinking it, it has ceased to be fire-water and become as casual as drinking water. A splash of cola never hurt either.39

Clear liquor is for pussies and woman. If you drink nothing but vodka, you might as well grow tits and get a rim-job by a guy named Pete. Don’t get me wrong, they taste ok but they refuse to hit the spot like a nice barrel-aged bourbon or scotch.40

At first I enjoyed beer. It’s good to party with and it’s always cheap. Don’t try to get me to choke down a glass though. It generally tastes like ass and is way too heavy. It takes much effort to get fucked up on it too.41

Don’t even get me started on these party drinks! Long islands, rum and coke, Smirnoff, pucker, goldschlager, Bacardi selects, all amateurs when compared to that dark, barrel-aged, smoked whiskey or scotch. When I go to the bar or the party, they bust out the big bottle.42

Viva la bourbon!43