Moods and Memories

This is my favourite time of night. It's so quiet and so peaceful, there's a "moods" cd playing softly in the background and candles burning. Girl cat and boy cat are competing for space beside me on the sofa and purring contentedly. This is when I truly get to relax and exhale deeply.

I'm in a very contemplative mood tonight, in a positive way though. I have a very strict policy when it comes to the use of social networking sites, Twitter for hussying and Facebook for my personal life and never the twain shall meet. Far less confusing that way, and less opportunities for vino fuelled feck ups, like signing a message on Facebook "LL".

Allow me to do one of those very annoying "flashback" things they do on TV all the time. At the tender age of 15, a new boy came into our class at school. He was tall, muscular and incredibly handsome. The best bit was, he didn't have a clue. He was the most unassuming person you could meet. For my part, as a spotty, hormone plagued teenager fuelled by idealistic notions, I fell head over heels with him. Totally. I remember he always used to smell so good, that manly musky smell that just oozed under - appreciated testoserone. I wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt. Ahhh, puppy love.

The girls in our group clucked around him like there was no other man on earth, and as for me, well, I stuck with the geeks, it was a safe corner to be in. About perhaps six months later, word was flying around the school about a very secretive party that was scheduled to take place, someone's parents had obviously had a temporary lapse in sanity and had announced a weekend away, leaving their teenager in charge. To my eternal delight I got an invite, and set about organising my alibi for my parents combined with sourcing illicit alcohol. ( You know, years later my Dad told me he knew feckin' well what I was up to, but decided I wouldn't do anything TOO daft, and besides, he could have done without confrontation # 932. )

Anyway, the night came and the party got started with gusto. We all got fairly bleary eyed, Sinead was violently sick in the back garden ( a mark of honour in those days ) and between one thing and another, at some late point in proceedings I ended up alone in the kitchen, trying to find some ice for my drink whilst tickling the resident pooch on his tummy with my stockinged toes. Behind me I heard a voice - "There you are."

I swung around and there was the subject of 2,397 fantasies of mine, in all his glory. We chatted about this and that,( trying to appear nonchalant whilst semi-bladdered on Tia Maria as nicked from your parent's drinks cabinet is not a good look) and then it happened. He very gently cupped my cheeks with his hands and kissed me. The whole world stood still and all that mattered was that moment. He lifted me onto the kitchen counter to sit so that I could draw him closer into that kiss, which I most certainly did, until a worried looking Goth came running into the kitchen to inform us that one of the neighbours had called the police to break up the party. What happened after that is a bit of a blur really, security lights came on in various back gardens as we scrambled for freedom, and as a group we ended up in various retreats.

I spied that wonderful creature on another couple of occasions in school, and we did the whole "furtive smile" thing, until one day it was announced that on foot of his Father's job, the family were moving on, and I never saw him again. That was 20 years ago now, gosh just typing that out makes me feel old.

Anyway, why did I bore you to death with that ? Because when I came home from Newcastle today, I checked my personal emails before anything else. There was a new "friends" invite from Facebook so I logged in and there it was, his smiling face on his profile page and a message which simply said - "There you are".

Oh, he's been married since, had two children and is now with a new partner, but when I read that, all those wonderful memories came back and I have had an evening of grinning from ear to ear.

Nite,

LL xx