were written by
A girl
When I was 18, I met a boy. I also moved to Myrtle Beach, SC, got a kickin' job at Hard Rock Cafe, and got my belly button pierced. But I think what I remember most about the year is this: I met a boy. His name is Dave. I call him Rex. Being a former Jarhead, he shared my love of the USMC, and incidentally, my love of cheesecake. This eventually led to many-a-late-nite spent talking 'til the sun was almost done napping over a half-burnt cheesecake in the Hard Rock kitchen. I can't eat cheesecake now without thinking of Rex. He used to drive me home... and in doing so, he'd drive me crazy. Talking in the kitchen of The Rock soon led to talking on the bed of his truck on a South Carolina summer nite to talking over Zima and Bud Lite in the kitchen of my house. We talked until the words, not the time, ran out. Conversations ranged from cold nites in Somalia to the odd way he would hold his beer bottle. I wanted these nites to last forever. I cursed the sun that brought the morning. Rex touched me.. and I was touched. He'd call me up at the host stand from the kitchen.. his voice, even 5 seconds of his voice, could turn the worst day around and cause my heart to beat faster in anticipation of the nite. We'd steal private conversations over the walkie-talkies and we'd secretly smile at our little secret. On the day I moved from SC, I was mostly happy. I didn't belong there. I'm just not much of a small town girl. The part of me that was leaving Rex behind was crying. Or maybe it was crying out. I returned to CA.. but Rex and I kept in touch for a while. A long while. He'd call me at the most random times. I was so grateful for him and for the fact that I had left SC but I still hadn't left HIM. He wanted me to come visit. I couldn't come up with the money. I told him I missed him. He told me he loved me. He. Loved. Me. And I loved him. I loved Rex. I wondered why he had waited 'til I was 2500 miles and an ocean away to tell me this. I yelled at him.. I yelled at myself. We continued to talk on a pretty regular basis. I sent him birthday and Christmas and just-because cards. I held on. I clung to him for my very breath. And then.. just as all of my "relationships" do.. our contacts faded. He called less.. and less.. and then no more. We had become distant, and before I knew it.. we were strangers. On a nite, not too long ago as a matter of fact, I thought of Rex. I grew some sort of balls and picked up the phone. I dialed. "Hard Rock, Myrtle Beach.. how can I help you?" And so ends the story of Rex.. the boy I met when I was 18. Somewhere out there.. beneath the pale moonlite.. Currently reading: and rereading this entry Listening to: Goldfinger - 99 Red Balloons Thinking of: nite nite time -*-*-*- 19 Sept 02 that it is part of the destiny of the human race in its gradual improvement to leave off eating animals.." -HD Thoreau 
|