"I'm probably the only woman here who doesn't dye their hair" said my own personal icon of female perfection, who was now naturally grey, and I thought 'God, but you used to have the most amazing hair!'
I'd been hanging around with David in the car park waiting for the first reunion BBQ arrivals when a car pulled up and various former pupils got out, including a woman who didn't introduce herself but said she'd heard I'd be there this evening...
And I thought 'Is that...? No, it can't be... No, it must be...?' as the group sauntered over to the club house.
A while later when things had got going, I said to David "Is that ....?' and he says 'Yes'
It's funny that the one person whose face was most deeply etched on my psyche wasn't immediately recognisable.
Despite a reactivation of a dormant sense of inadequacy, I felt 'So what? I don't care what I talk about but I want to speak to her.' In the end, it proved easy enough, a good bit easier than I sensed it would have been in 1976, when I was much more of a dork.
Somehow, the later version woman has now been superimposed and merged with the original cherished memory in a kind of update. This is nuts, but in the process I feel like I've been robbed of something.
I'm sure it'll be a good thing in the long run. However, when I was in Asda this morning I suddenly felt a non-specific wave of sadness.
Still, I think my completion of the Edinburgh Triathlon might have impressed her because she always was quite competitive. It's not often you can achieve two life ambitions in one day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
The memory has a positive smoothing effect which is best left well alone. It was inevitable that after 30 years of polishing these particular memories, they would glaze over quickly.
You can never recreate that first time; as soon as it has happened, it's lost forever. Be it crisp flavours, Triathlon wins or sexual moments.
I wish I could bottle "the first time". Then I wouldn't have to work so bleeding hard now!
It was inevitable that reunion thing would stir up all the sediment during such a cave dive into the past.
I'm not saying it was a bad thing finally having a conversation with her and I certainly don't think what on earth did I see in her?
In a way nothing's changed except... I think what it is...
When I think of her name, up until yesterday I'd still feel a bit weak at the knees because I was kind of lumbered with the default setting of a seventeen year old girl.
Now that the image file's been updated there's still the curiousity there but the whole thing's substantially less mad.
and being crazy about her thirty years ago seems fairly reasonable.
I have a theory that you are somehow 'fixed' onto the first woman that you find sexually attractive' A hard wired process perhaps. From then on its all second best. Don't tell anyone that please.
well I know, that's what's bothered me since 1976.
Of course I actually had a dream a couple of years ago on this very theme, well it was actually a nightmare. There was this school reunion thing much on the same lines as the reality. And it was all mixed up with wanting to and not wanting to see the 'Iconic Woman' again.
So in the dream I go to the reunion and she's there but when I first see her across the crowded room to my horror she's no longer beautiful at all, I turn on my heels and in the process of leaving the building wake up, actually in tears - that really is nuts.
Why is it less mad? Because thinking of her name now conjures up an self aged matched image instead of a teenager? (No longer a "questionable" scenario.)
Or realising that we are all mortal?
I think you were brave, because many would never have given themselves the opportunity to find out.
Well I can see what you mean, it was maybe better left as it was?
Post a Comment