I remember:
Most of my sisters’ girlfriends, and how my sister hated me for trying to seduce them, (sometimes just to spite her) one of which, became one of the (few) closest people to my heart, Jennifer – Losing my virginity when I was too young to do so, and feeling (afterward) like I had disappointed her so deeply, emotionally & physically, that it was unforgivable, yet she continued to love me so unconditionally, only now, I can appreciate – The countless bike rides to her house, I could draw you a detailed 3D map from memory of the route taken – The idea that our parents never new (what we considered) the seriousness of our relationship, and yet I failed to take it as serious as I should have. I don’t regret, I cherish the experience, so much so that I never want to forget it, to forget would be to deny part of who I am – The understanding we had that when she was over at my house to see my sister, that I had to keep my distance, at least until every one went to bed, as we grew older, I think my sister understood our relationship since she (by that time), had the chance to love someone and empathize with what one has to go through to love another – I don’t remember if it had something to do with Jennifer or Marilyn (was not with both at the same time, just not sure of the timeline) but I remember feeling so betrayed by my sister (over what I don’t know, just that it got me in a HEAP of trouble) that the emotion was so strong to wash my hands of her, that I literally ran my hands with soap under the hottest water our bathroom sink could produce (we had well-water and our water heater made it REAL hot!) why I felt it necessary to hurt my self because I was hurting I have NO idea, it’s a poor character trait I carry to this day (in the form of punching walls when I am unable to deal with my hurt) I know I need help for this, I pray I overcome it – Once, in my early teen years, and for what reason I don’t know, I toyed with the idea of suicide, I drank a bunch of hydrogen peroxide, not even enough to make me sick, that was the LAST time I considered anything so stupid. I always wondered why I don’t remember some of these details, I have often thought it was because the circumstances were foolish and naive, thus not worth remembering, but some life-long negative traits were developed during this time. Perhaps some psychoanalysis is in order –
I remember not being an honest person when it came to women in my life, from an early age, I found ways to balance the “failure to mention” alibi, keeping my worlds functionally separate, as it were, that this girl was not aware of my relationship with the other. Not trying to sound like I had game or anything, just that I could convince myself that I had to keep the revolving-door in motion, so that when one relationship fell apart, (as it eventually did) I was never alone, and it was never because of “another woman” it just so happen that there was always one in my life, one I could fall back on. I think after a couple years of this lifestyle, I developed HUGE insecurity in all of my relationships with women, because I knew what deception I was capable of, I was always second guessing her motives, or the true & genuine love I was being shown – during my college years, it was almost like a sixth sense, a way of reading people, that was (at the time) quite accurate, man I felt so smart back then – I am today ashamed of the way I treated the women in my past, and if you know me, and you are reading this, and felt I was dishonest with you, you had good reason to feel that way. Please know that I am sorry.
I remember my 1st car, a 1978 Ford LTD, I called it the LTD Hotel because of the spacious room inside. I was not able to get my license until I was 17 because by the time I was 15, I developed a habit of taking my mothers car keys, running out to the car with my sister after church, and bumping the radio until my mother finished her socializing with the padre and the rest of the congregation that gathered in the area between the church and the rectory, and this particular Sunday, I thought it was a bright idea to drive her car around (from behind the church, where my mother parked) to the front, to greet her as she was exiting the church, it was a good idea at the time, and I had the full support of my sister –
I remember taking my 1st car where it was not meant to go, like the towers, a place off-the main road that was meant for more equipped vehicles, like lifted trucks and dirt bikes, where kids would go to drink, party and take a stab at driving up one of the 2 large-steep, deeply eroded hillsides that really only a motorcycle or a dune-buggy could climb. I made a drunken attempt once and nearly made my car a permanent resident of the towers. Another time, after graduation from high school, I went for an off road joy ride with my cousin, and misjudged the depth of a puddle in the middle of an off-road trail and instantly stalled the engine when we ran through it. And ANOTHER time, driving under the influence late one night in Wellsville, accelerating out of a back alley too fast with a carload of drunken friends, hit some parked car, and smashed my front passenger side, needless to say the party was over at that instant. I lied to my parents, stating that someone hit and ran my car when I was working at Bruno’s. Pizzeria. I even went to Bruno’s that night and left pieces of my headlight in the parking lot to support my story – Momma, please forgive me for I know not what I was doing.
I remember how “progressive” my friends and I felt we were, because we listened to groups like the Cure & Depeche Mode, and smoked Garcia Vega Cigars, and drank Heineken, and Guinness, One of the girls in my circle had a father that was constantly out of town, so of course, that was the place to be; to watch faces of death, drink beer and have sex in any of the available bedrooms, and if not there, there was a tree that was not to far from her house that we could drive up to and chill, it was far enough off the road where no one would see us, we were the elite, (or so we thought, at the time) we had a bigger picture of the world, maybe we were the only ones to have cable when it came out, I don’t know but we were borderline stuck up when it came to the others in school. I had friends in just about every social group in school, since I spent my freshman to junior years in Band, I had had band-fag friends, I was artistic, and in art class, so I had art friends, I had long hair so I had “head” friends – I don’t know who came up with the term “Head” to describe the group that wore their hair long, wore jean-jackets, sometimes with metal bands-names emblazed upon them, always working for the janitor, to get out of study hall, (because, depending on who was working, you could sometimes smoke down in the boiler room) and always the ones getting in trouble, they were anti-social, always making fun of the others who were openly into sports, book smart, talented in any way, of cared for their appearance by washing every day or 2, whoever came up with the term was definitely detached from this reality, I could think of a handful of more appropriate words to describe them, i.e. rockers, head bangers, metal heads…hey, metal heads…head ba… perhaps…
End of Volume II
