ADDICTED TO LOVE
Because I have a case of Blog-blah-blah-itis, I am going to write about all the men I have been crazy about. I have had to kiss a lot of frogs to find Zorro. This is my story.
Several months ago my Mother handed over to me a tan leather book bag. Inside was a treasure trove of "Mary" memorabilia dating back to my first grade report cards and including everything she considered worth saving. Post cards from camp along with letters from college, pictures, Girl Scout badges and the hat, my first communion book are just a few of the items that greeted me. There was an electrified quality that pulsated from it. That was me!….returning from a long journey to introduce myself to me.
Memories are mysterious things. Fragments of a time from long ago. Mind pictures, as if I were viewing a mini movie from the back of a very large and dark theater. The movie starring a very young, impetuous, uncertain child. Go way back to when I was 12 years old and I had been signed up for diving lessons along with my friend Dottie. The instructor was the man I had my very first real crush on. I was secretly in love with Kit, the hunky life guard who was the instructor. Kit did not go to school in our small town, but was attending a military prep school in Tennessee. He was an older man, 17, and also the head life guard at the local swimming pool, along with being the swim team coach and diver extraordinaire. Plus he was missing the first joint part of his index finger, lost in some mysterious way that only made him more exciting.
Dottie bailed out on me and for two tortuous weeks I was dropped off at the pool for an hour of diving lessons one on one with Kit. I was a miserable diver. Totally no talent. Yet, I went day after day and suffered the humiliation that only a 12 year old girl can suffer.
The absolute worst was when he decided I was advanced enough to try a back dive off the High Dive. Over and over we both went up the twelve steps to the top where he would hold me around my waist while I leaned over backwards until he let go.
Oh the joy of those seconds of being held by him! Quickly obliterated by the blue water rushing at me and my legs cascading over me causing a backwards belly flop.
I can not believe that I climbed back up that ladder for more. Again and again.
Oh…..yes I can. For at 12 years of age I was realizing the truth that would follow me for a long time.......love hurts.