Hunt for Red

I am wondering why,
after a month or two
of a good friendship,
one romantic interlude could change it all.
Because,
even though the innuendo
was always there,
we never came out and actually said
what we really wanted.
Then suddenly,
I found myself
on a "date" with you,
holding your hand
in a darkened theater,
watching the suspense build up
on the screen
and feeling the sexual tension
getting ready to explode.
Until finally it did,
in your bedroom.
I guess it was kind of embarrassing
for us to lose control
like that.
And, even though you said,
we'd still be friends,
I can't help wondering,
if this will mean the end.


After what happened with the guy in See What You've Done, I had not been attracted to men with red hair for years. SJ changed that. We worked together in a department store and used to spend more time talking to each other on the phone then actually working. One night, we decided to go and see "The Hunt For Red October." He was reading the book, I love Sean Connery and Alec Baldwin. This was the night referenced in this poem.

I was right. We didn't remain friends. There wasn't a big blow out or anything but it was weird watching him date other women after we had been together twice. And then I moved to Madison so we lost contact. I haven't thought of him in years. He was a nice guy, he made me laugh and he was really good in bed so hopefully, he's making some lucky woman very happy.

To Mark

Becky is playing me songs
that she says are me and you.
And it's so true.
How strange it is that songwriters who
have never met us can know
everything that went wrong,
everything that went right,
and everything in between.
How do they know?
Did you sell our story?
I will wait for you,
living all the dreams over again,
trying to get over the pain,
trying to live again.
Looking for someone who is just like you
but who doesn't feel the need to inflict pain.
Looking for someone who is just like you
who can make me laugh,
who can love me for me,
who doesn't want me to cry all the time.
I'm looking for a facsimile,
because the real thing isn't there.
Never was.
never will be.
I want the dream you,
not the real you.
but I'll never forget you,
who you were
and how you made me grow up,
even when I didn't want to.
Mark, thank you for being you.
 
Yes, Mark, thank you for being a complete and total jerk who damaged my self-confidence so that every man I met after you was able to walk all over me even more than I let you.  Thank you for cheating on me with 3 other women, all at the same time (had the nerve to laugh about the day where he had sex with every single one of us, one right after another). 
 
First boyfriend, high school/1st year of college.  Don't miss him at all.