To Be Twelve Again
Oh, to be twelve
again. Not that I particularly liked 12
all that much, but things were easier, a whole lot less complicated.
You went to school, you
hung out with your friends and the biggest decisions you had to make were what
color Keds to get or whether or not you should risk getting punished by
sneaking the transistor radio under your pillow at night so you could listen to
the Mets.
But things have
changed. Everything has changed.
Take girls.
When I was 12 if you
liked a girl you pulled her ponytail, you chased her on the playground. And if things were really serious you carried
her books and prayed you didn't run into your friends on the walk home.
When did girls, excuse
me, women, get so complicated. I really
would have thought that by the time I hit 40 I would have figured them out.
Not a chance. I really missed a class somewhere along the
way.
I think I had a better
understanding when I was 12. At least at
12 I knew what I wanted...Peggy Stephenson, the most popular girl in the 7th
grade. But, unfortunately, she wasn't
swayed by my dimples or my developing swagger.
No, she was only interested in Tommy Mitchell.
So while I didn't get the
girl when I was 12, I at least knew which one I wanted. Which is more than I can say now.
So here I am, it's after midnight, it's cold, snowing and I'm
sitting on my front step. I just watched
Amy walk away without even looking back.
The strange thing
is...I'm not sure how I feel about that.
There are certain things
you have to understand about Amy and I.
We've known each other for twenty years.
She lived a floor below Chris and I at school. Spent a lot of time hanging out in our
room. Now that I think about it, I'm
pretty sure she was feeling the same way I do now, not quite sure who she
liked.
But, since Chris had paid
attention in the class about what to do after you like someone, she ended up
with him. And once again I lost the
girl.
Actually we did go out
once, to the movies I think. But I never
made a move and she turned to Chris.
So here I am, twenty some
years later, having just gotten my first kiss from Amy Gardner and I'm sitting
in the snow trying to decide how I feel about that kiss.
It was....OK.
That's right, it was just
ok. Not bad, but nothing special. Nothing like what I would expect from a first
kiss. Not like what I would expect from
my first kiss with...well, let's just use Donna as an example.
Of course we've never
really kissed. Sure a peck on the cheek
and the forehead once in a while. But never a curl your toes, see the fireworks
type kiss. So I'm just guessing how our
first kiss will be.
Will be?
Oh God, I really need
some help.
So now I'm torn. Between Amy and Donna. I like both of them, really I do. And I've been thinking about something ever
since the day Leo testified. And I think
I've come to a conclusion of sorts.
I like Donna, a lot. In fact, I love her dearly but I don't think
I'm in love with her. Or to put it in a
way an average 12 year old could understand, I like her but I don't *like her*,
like her.
I was in love with her at
one time, I think. But looking back it
might have had more to do with her taking care of me and less about actually
being in love.
Yeah, it's pretty confusing
to me too.
What we have is like
nothing I've ever experienced before.
She's my best friend. The one who
understands me better than anyone in the world.
The one I can go to about anything, anytime. Sounds sappy but it is
true.
And I'm pretty sure she
feels the same way. Which is probably
why we've danced around each other for years and never quite cracked under the
pressure of our feelings for each other.
But let's face it, since
Cliff and Amy came along things have been different all around. And I'm not saying it's all bad, cause it's
not. Just different. But we're getting back to where we were. For
that I am grateful.
Well, my crappy watch is
telling me I really need to go in if I am going to get some reading done before
I go to bed.
Maybe I'll make some hot
chocolate. Just like my mom used to make
when I was upset or confused. Well, not exactly like mom's cause I know for a
fact I have no powdered cocoa but I do have Hershey's syrup and a fresh gallon
of milk. That will do just fine.
As I shake the snow from
my coat and hair I come to a realization.
Some things are the same as when I was twelve. See, when I was twelve
and pursuing the adorable Peggy Stephenson I had a best friend. Someone I shared
everything with, hung out with and honed my bantering skills with. Her name was Denise and like Donna, she was
blond and blue eyed. But she threw a
mean curve ball and her knowledge of Mets statistics rivaled my own. I liked her but I didn't *like her*, like
her. We were best friends through junior
high and into freshman year of high school when we slowly went our separate
ways.
Something I hope never
happens with Donna and I. Can't imagine my life without her.
THE END
