It had been a while since I'd gone to that part of town...
...since I'd seen the building where he and I spent that one summer together.
Somehow, it didn't feel the same. Nothing was magical about it anymore.
Walking down that road, I found it hard to believe that there was a time when I'd put everything on hold and dash halfway across town...
to this building...
to walk through that painted wooden door...
to see him...
He felt so cold against my body that would be sweaty from all the running, warm under all that make up and all those layers of black clothes.
We hardly ever talked.
I loved it.
What would I say to him anyway? Discuss school?
I only remember this...
Our lips.... the cold spreading through my body... and then goosebumps.
It became routine. Like a drill, almost.
I loved it.
I had had my first orgasm.
I kept going back there, everyday.
He still lives here, I've heard. I'm sure he's found so many giddy girls since me.
I will just be that delirious 17 year old to him who was obsessed with him once.Life goes on, no?
But it was not his fault anyway... None of it was. Looking back, I can only sigh.
At 17, I was sure I had found love and even more sure that he and I would last forever and for always (like in that Shania Twain song.)
Then one morning, I wasn't able to slip into my jeans quite as easily as I usually would.
The bump started showing.
My belly was getting bigger.
It didn't matter how much I cut back on Nutella.
I needed maternity pants. Soon.
I think she read the guilt in my eyes (or she figured there was something the size of a giant panda under my shirt) but at any rate, my mother was the first to talk to me about it.
I burst out. I confessed to her. My mum. I told her what I'd been doing all summer long.
She was calmer than I thought she would be when it all came out into the open.
She held my hand and walked me through the biggest screw up of my life...
My beer belly.
Courtesy: Beer @ Pecos.
Rs. 275 per pitcher.
Buy one, get one. FREE.
* * *
Now of course, I'm a lot wiser... older.
"That building" is just another building to me.
I'm blissfully married to Whiskey.
We've had a couple of babies ever since- Judgement Impaired and Puffy McCheeks.
They are my world.
We have a third one on the way... We want to name him Ugly Zit Jr.
Life is good.
* * *
Disclaimer:
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.
Any resemblance to any biological process, natural or in-vitro is purely coincidental.
...since I'd seen the building where he and I spent that one summer together.
Somehow, it didn't feel the same. Nothing was magical about it anymore.
Walking down that road, I found it hard to believe that there was a time when I'd put everything on hold and dash halfway across town...
to this building...
to walk through that painted wooden door...
to see him...
He felt so cold against my body that would be sweaty from all the running, warm under all that make up and all those layers of black clothes.
We hardly ever talked.
I loved it.
What would I say to him anyway? Discuss school?
I only remember this...
Our lips.... the cold spreading through my body... and then goosebumps.
It became routine. Like a drill, almost.
I loved it.
I had had my first orgasm.
I kept going back there, everyday.
He still lives here, I've heard. I'm sure he's found so many giddy girls since me.
I will just be that delirious 17 year old to him who was obsessed with him once.Life goes on, no?
But it was not his fault anyway... None of it was. Looking back, I can only sigh.
At 17, I was sure I had found love and even more sure that he and I would last forever and for always (like in that Shania Twain song.)
Then one morning, I wasn't able to slip into my jeans quite as easily as I usually would.
The bump started showing.
My belly was getting bigger.
It didn't matter how much I cut back on Nutella.
I needed maternity pants. Soon.
I think she read the guilt in my eyes (or she figured there was something the size of a giant panda under my shirt) but at any rate, my mother was the first to talk to me about it.
I burst out. I confessed to her. My mum. I told her what I'd been doing all summer long.
She was calmer than I thought she would be when it all came out into the open.
She held my hand and walked me through the biggest screw up of my life...
My beer belly.
Courtesy: Beer @ Pecos.
Rs. 275 per pitcher.
Buy one, get one. FREE.
* * *
Now of course, I'm a lot wiser... older.
"That building" is just another building to me.
I'm blissfully married to Whiskey.
We've had a couple of babies ever since- Judgement Impaired and Puffy McCheeks.
They are my world.
We have a third one on the way... We want to name him Ugly Zit Jr.
Life is good.
* * *
Disclaimer:
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.
Any resemblance to any biological process, natural or in-vitro is purely coincidental.
