(no subject)
I just re-read some passages in old paper diaries. I was hoping (just after watching Hugh Jackman sing Curly in a London production of Oklahoma!) that I could dig up specific memories of playing Ado Annie in the same show. No such luck: all I wrote about, for pages and pages, was the thrill of stage-kissing. At seventeen, I could tell that stage-kisses were not the same as real kisses, I had no illusions about any possible offstage romances budding from the cute actors playing the two characters that were both pursuing mine. But I had only been kissed on one night before then, and the physical high of lip on lip contact was all I could write about.
If ever someone offers me a chance to step back, to be a younger me, I must firmly remind myself that I will never, ever go through adolescence again. In fact, future self, should you like a bookmark, a good time to revisit- come back to this time. My lover and I are in the midst of five or six days where we're both off, together. Tenderness and silliness abound. Don't ask me why I woke up this morning with "9 bellies" and the appropriate circles, drawn on my belly with light blue highlighter. It's a state secret.
If ever someone offers me a chance to step back, to be a younger me, I must firmly remind myself that I will never, ever go through adolescence again. In fact, future self, should you like a bookmark, a good time to revisit- come back to this time. My lover and I are in the midst of five or six days where we're both off, together. Tenderness and silliness abound. Don't ask me why I woke up this morning with "9 bellies" and the appropriate circles, drawn on my belly with light blue highlighter. It's a state secret.