Part 2… (Continued from Part 1 - Click to read)
Simon: This is going to be a hard one because you will probably stop liking me at this point. Simon was John’s best friend until I came along. I decided the time was up for my relationship with John, so naturally I did what any 14 year old coward would do. I cheated on him with another guy in the auditorium foyer during an award-winning performance from the high school drama club. Consumed with guilt, I immediately broke up with John and started pining after auditorium guy with not much luck. (More on him later). When that didn’t work out, a tall, stylish, bass-playing glass of water named Simon suddenly caught my attention. In the blink of an eye, I had ruined a friendship and snagged a new four year commitment. I managed to hang on to my virginity by a thread, bless his heart. Although I think I may have given him a blow job in the back of his parents‘ van on the way home from a family beach trip. Again, my memory fails me there because I subconsciously ignore any times in my past where I behaved like a damn hooker. The thing I remember the most fondly about this relationship is music. Simon was a punk rock kid with an old school gentleman twist. He made me mixes of bands like The Ataris, Blink 182, Dance Hall Crashers, Bouncing Souls, MxPx, and Unwritten Law. But he'd stop whatever he was doing and ask me to dance when Santana's Samba Pa Ti came on the radio. A true romantic, he would write me love letters and bring long-stemmed roses to my door like they were growing in his truck. Simon eventually left town on a quest to join the family business: prison. His plan was to become a correctional officer and then my husband. I really cared about Simon, but my plan was to not have anything to do with that. I had heard stories of C.O.’s beating the shit out of their wives because the stress of their jobs became too much to handle at home. No thank you. Besides, it was almost time to go to college. I saw Simon a few years ago; over a decade had passed since we were together. He came to see one of my shows when my band was on tour and smoked a cigarette during the break with my lesbian band mate who also happened to be my ex. As I looked out at the two tattooed, well-dressed, pompadoured musicians through the front window of the bar in what I can only describe as a This is Your Life moment, it suddenly struck me that I did sort of have a type.
Check back next week for Boys and Girls - Part 3