I grew up in a small country town…
Luckily my parents went overseas when I was in primary school, taking me with them of course. That experience made it a hell of a lot easier to cope with that ‘small country town’ for I knew that there was in fact a big world out there, past the cow paddocks and dairy farms.
Still it was hard at times, I never felt like I fit. Though I came from local stock, both my folks had gone to same high school that I did, we even had some of the same teachers (I had young folks), logically I should have fit.
Perhaps the thing that saved me from that small town was also the thing to make me different…Knowledge of a world ‘out there’.
Of course I was also queer, maybe that would have been enough to make me not fit. I guess I will never really know.
In retrospect I did pretty good job faking it.
Life only got weird when started I having ‘feelings’ for my best mate. We use to snog each other on sleepovers, but never talked about it. It was a secret to ourselves as much as it was to the world around us.
Tore me up a bit though.
I don’t think I was in love with her, but she did become the vessel into which I poured all the unrequited love that I felt for others.
I still think about those grrls. Those beautiful smart grrls, who I would entertain with my antics, who I would draw cartoons for.
Cassandra:
She was dark and passionate, always singing ‘The queen and the soldier’ by Suzanne Vega. Her poems and stories that she read in class were heavier and more dramatic than anyone else’s. She had a lisp that made me swoon.
I wrote her a love poem once…
Cassie mentioned that poem years later, when I was back in Melbourne running away from my fiancee and mortgage. We were in her bedroom talking about old times and she told me she didn’t realise what I was trying to tell her with that poem all those years previous. Just as well really.
Stacey: Grrrr, the first of all my Virgo fascinations. Stack as I called her was awesome, at least I thought so. She reminded me of Molly Ringwald, Stack had a great mouth. I would daydream about kissing her, thinking of scenerios in my mind.
Once she was away sick for a few days, so I drew a large poster full of cartoons and funny stuff, it was a tall as me. I dropped it off to her parents store to pass it on to her.
One night years later in the local pub, Stack mentioned that she still had that poster, I’d forgotten all about it.
Poems, Posters… Let overs from my teenager loves.
Not forgotten though and that is kind of cool. It gives me hope that even the little things we do don’t get diluted by time. Especially if motivated by love, regardless of how clumsy and unrequited it may have been.
Here I am 16 years later and I still seem to do the unrequited thing with ease. Like a habit.
Yet all I really want is someone to draw me cartoons and write me love poems, I’ve never had that and I think it would be pretty cute.
Hey, it’s so cliched that it just might happen…
Goodnight.
