Strange Memories

For some reason, while I was showering today, a strange memory popped into my head.  I can't exactly remember how old I was, but I'm going to say around 14 or 15.   And I can't remember how I hooked up with this guy T, because he went to public school and I did 12 years of Catholic school.  But he lived nearby so that's probably how we ended up knowing each other.  He would occasionally call me up and ask to come over.  The only purpose of these visits were to make out in my basement.  It happened a few times.  But I was a very naive young girl and he was far too fast for me.  He was the first guy that got to third base with me and it was way too much.  Catholic school drilled into my head from an early age that any kind of sexual activity is bad bad bad!!!   So at the time, I was probably thinking I was going to hell.  But third base aside, this boy T, had a very unusual move.  Thankfully he was the only one who ever did this to me and I never ever had to experience it again.   He French kissed my ear, a lot.  He actually put his tongue in my ear and went to town.  It was really gross, like a wet willy that went on and on.  I have no clue whatever happened to him but I know he stopped calling me when I told him to get his hands out of my pants.

One memory leads to another and I started to realize wow, I made out with a lot of guys when I was young.  What a dick tease!  My first kiss, was it M or was it J?  I want to say it was J, but I can't be sure.  J and his brother F, both had been my boyfriend at different times.  And come to think of it, both were public school boys too.  F was definitely the studlier hotter of the two.  Oh F, I was so in love with him, as much as a 13 year old can be in love.  Even at a young age I was attracted to the Guido's.  F had a Polish last name, but so did I.  There was no mistaking his Guidoness though.  He with the long dark feathered back hair, the white tank top muscle shirt (now known as wife beaters), green eyes (oh damn I'm a total sucker for dark hair with blue or green eyes), tight jeans and a chain on his wallet.  What a freakin hottie of a 14 year old!  He used to come over to my house with this Triumph albums and we'd listen to them in my basement and make out.  I never liked Triumph, but I liked making out with him so who cares what was playing!  He was the first boy I ever said "I love you" to.  Although I think I never really actually said the words.  What I did was, I called him up and put on my brothers Led Zepplin album.  When the song "All of My Love" came on, I put the phone up to the speaker.  In 1979, that song was huge and it conveyed, I thought, what I wanted to say.  And after I "said" it, he came over a day or two later with a gift.  A lovely blue Timex watch without a box.  He just put it in my hand and kissed me.  It was official, we were in love.

Unfortunately from there my memory gets fuzzy.  How did we break up and why?   No clue.  But most likely because I wouldn't put out.  That's why most boys broke up with me.  Whatever happened to him?  No idea.  I do know that whenever I saw him after that, I'd swoon.  He was and remains one of the hottest guys I ever knew. 

Memories are a strange thing.  The littlest thing can spark them.  Why did I think of ear kisser T while I was in the shower?  Did I get water in my ear and suddenly have a strange flashback?  And why do I remember some weird minute detail like Triumph albums but not how F and I parted ways?  I guess this quote puts that in perspective...

"We do not remember days; we remember moments."  ~Cesare Pavese