A ‘Brief’ History of Timmy, Part VII

When I got home, the question Kevin had put to me still lingered. I wrote in my journal, “I am Tim. I am a trekkie. I am atheist. I like Jesse Ventura.” And.. that was that. At least for the moment, my identity crisis was solved.

There was a social event the next day, a picnic. Jean showed up, and the dynamic of their relationship was clear. Erin had two boyfriends. *laughs* Apparently, Kevin and Jean were really good friends. They segregated themselves from the rest of us, creating three 3rd-wheels. (or 4th-wheels, depending on how you look at it.) Me, I had some interest in Erin, but any serious thoughts of pursuing her were completely vaporized. She had enough problems without throwing me into the mix.

I liked being social, and I thought things would change. Nothing changes overnight. Well, almost.

On September 24, Erin’s car ran out of gas before getting to school. Nothing significant about that, I just found it incredibly hilarious. We walked the distance and I was late for some testing. I later found out she wasn’t out of gas, but it was something else. Lou invited me to watch “Return of The Rock” on MTV the following day. He also suggested that I ask Angel out. Why? He said she talked about me like I’m Jonathon Davis. (Angel likes KoRn. Feel free to pass judgements.) I did make a mild effort to give her attention and otherwise talk to her. That night, rather randomly, I decided I should ask out Angel. Why? It’s much easier to ask someone out when you know the person likes you. I felt I could use the experience. I’d swear I said to myself, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

My memory is extremely sharp about this day. September 25, 1999. I went to Lou’s. Angel arrived. We were sitting on the couch next to each other, watching TV. I didn’t know what to do. So I did what came instinctively. I moved closer, and put my hand on hers. Not holding it. I caressed it. She returned the affection, setting a trend for communication on a purely physical level. She held my hand and I got a boner. At 7:26 PM, hands sweating, heart pounding, and nervous as hell, I asked her out.

When I got home, Wendi noticed the necklace I had stolen from Angel. I confessed that I had a girlfriend. I would never be the same again.

I quickly became obsessed with Angel. Obsessed in every sense of the word. I became addicted. I became acutely aware of how she smelled. On September 29, 1999, I had my first kiss. I can still remember it, to this day. We were on her front porch. On the third kiss, she slipped me the tongue. I didn’t know anything about kissing, but she sure taught me. Kissing surprised me in that the physical sensation wasn’t all that exciting. I just felt an emotional rush making out with her, beyond anything I’ve ever felt. I was so in the moment, I didn’t want that kiss to end. She broke the kiss, took me by the hand, and we went to her room. She would later claim that I did it on my own free will, but I felt her guide my hand to her breast. Under the bra. It was heaven. I stayed in the moment, never wanting it to end. Of course, I went home, eventually. Feeling.. incredible.

The next day, I guess I had a jump in my step or something. I forget how he got it out of me, but I told Ziggy that I had gotten to “2nd Base”. Hey, I don’t like the terminology, either. What was I suppose to say, “I touched her boobs.” Oh. Nevermind. Anyway, Ziggy. We hung out before homeroom the year before, and continued the trend this year. I didn’t think much of him, yet.

Wednesday was to be topped only by that Friday. October 1st, 1999. I took the bus home with her, again. We were to see a movie, later on. We went into her room and she turned on her stereo. She turned around to face me, and before she could even finish saying, “So, what do you want to do?”, my tongue was in her mouth. It’s like there was a fog in my mind. Impulses and desires took over. Thing is, I didn’t have policy set down yet. My philosophy was that, if a girl said no, I’d respect it. Angel never said no. We mimiced the activities of two days earlier. I found myself rubbing between her legs, and my hands were starting to chafe. I was afraid of losing the moment. I took my hand off, and she actually unzipped for me. Down through the pubes and onto her pussy, my hand went. I remember thinking to myself, “Damn, she’s wet.” Ultimate compliment, eh? She so spoiled me. She had shaved her pussy beforehand. At once point, we had to break, maybe because her cousin was stopping by. I tasted my finger. And I liked it.

I later asked her, twice, how I had done. She said, “Good” and “Fine.” She would later inform me that she did not orgasm. Damn. Thing with me and Angel was that, despite what we did, we never took our clothes off. We weren’t THAT comfortable with each other. *laughs* We could talk, maybe, just to kill time, but we never shared anything personal.

We did go see a movie. We didn’t watch much of it. Well, I planned on watching it. But um. I remember her kissing each one of my fingers. I remember that she got into my pants, I guess as a thank-you. Sadly, my penis was tired and I had to tell her to stop. Hey, I had been with her for hours on end. Besides, did she expect me to cream my pants in a movie theatre?

Bluntly, Angel and I had a purely physical relationship. Which, really pissed me off because we didn’t see each other that often. After that day, we did not see each other outside of school. I tried, oh I tried. I remember calling her, just to tell her that I missed her. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any phone skills yet. I remember Wendi telling me to call her anyway, because she’d appreciate it. When I was with Angel, I was happy. And when I wasn’t with her, I longed for her unlike I’ve longed for anybody. I tend to refer to that month as one of the happiest in my life, but that’s just faery-tale-izing it. It was a rollercoaster.

A month passed, and I thought everything was going okay. We never fought. Of course, we never talked about anything deep enough to fight about it. On October 27, Ziggy asked me how long he thought Angel and I would last. When it would end. I had never given it any serious thought. I just thought we’d just … be together. He couldn’t have said that at a better time. The next day, I noticed Angel seeming a little off. On October 29, 1999, she dumped me. A note. Which really didn’t say much. I was heartbroken. The day after, I started a poetry journal.

I didn’t know how to deal. I had never dealt with ANY emotional trauma in my life. I remember when Mom ran over Striper with the van. My reaction was, “When can we get another cat?” I had nobody to talk to. Wendi consulted me, as usual. She told me not to get too hung up on it. She told me the reason I was making a big deal out of it is simply because she was my first girlfriend. And you know what? She was absolutely right.