One day I will no longer write about boys... But until then

12.07.04

Adem

I wash hard between my toes
across my chest
between my legs
along my neck
where you kissed me last night
I want to wash you away
my exquisite sin
and all it's mischief
with all it's hurt
I try to repent my sin
But for all the guilt
and the smell of fresh soap
I can't stop thinking about you.

23.07.06

I found an old journal hiding and collecting dust in my home in London and really not knowing why brought it to H with me this weekend. He was a guy I kept hooking up with for a while but never got together. He was the most incompatible person I could have ever been attracted to. But when he moved closer, kissed me. We both knew that our bodies would fit and work perfectly together. I've never felt anything like that with someone I lusted after. It was purely primal and physical. It felt so sexy. To the coincidence. An introduction to P.

When I was in my early years of secondary school and things were hard. I was awkward but didn't know it, and what's more sad was I didn't know how to change. So my hope was one day 'we'll, the bullies and I' would be too old for this. That other things would be far more important like A levels, university, sex and contraception. Not that I knew what that was at the time. For me that was a finishing line that was in sight, only a few more years. It was the moment one became a prefect. When the girls wore office skirts, suit jackets and pretty shirts. While the boys wore suits, all different shades of navy. They looked so hansom and distinguished. Like young happy men that took his small kids to the swimming pool on Sundays, while mummy could have time off, 'time for herself.' but in hindsight they were still boys, and not even close to becoming a man. But what did I know. Close to nothing. There was one in particular that when he passed in the hallway I would hold my breath in hope that eye contact would touch him and that he would see something special in me that no-one had ever seen. And I would be released from the torment of the other girl. But he never did and nobody ever saw me. And I left school at 16 and never became one of those A level students with their big A4 folders and thick text books. Now we fast forward a couple of years, nine to be exact. And somehow I'm standing in a circle with my great friend k and her friends. And this symbol that never saved me stands next to me. We are introduced and is surprised at his own lack of recollection of me from his school days, "How did I not know you." He hasn't changed a single bit or maybe my memory of him is lost in delusion. With the same naughty smile, that for the first time is aimed at me. And there we were in our little bubble of pure sexual tension that makes it impossible not to touch each other. But it's clever and subtle and I've waited for a long time for a moment like this to happen i almost miss this look that's appeared on his face and before I even have time to totally comprehend what is about to happen to me, our lips meet. But I'm don't move to dance to his and I pull away. Because I'm no longer that girl and he still is 'that boy.' Looking at it with an unbiased view there's chemistry there that neither of us act upon but both enjoy seeing how each other reacts to our move and looks. Back to the connection. I had the same deep to the pit of your stomach feeling as I did with Adem. It's this pure and raw sexual connection, that I have with these totally incompatible men. Our lives would never 'somehow' fit together. WHY?

Our eyes met again last night and there was that look and that smile. I was speaking with a male friend and when he walked right up behind me and passed, he ran his thumb along the small of my back and carried on walking. It sent an electric surge right up my spine and goose pimples dotted my arm. I hope feelings like that will never change as we grow older. But I know they will... But for the moment.