It’s the nighttime, Baby.
Don’t let go of my love tonight.
When I was nineteen, I fell into my first real relationship. Unfortunately, it was with the girl my best friend was in love with.
She and I were both a bit younger than he was and we both idolized his coolness. Neither one of us wanted to jeopardize our friendship with him by letting him know what was going on between us. So during the daytime the three of us would hang out at the cafeteria, the Art Building, or in the dorm lobby. (It was a Christian college, and the opposite sex was not allowed in the dorms except during weekend visiting hours—and even then the door had to be open at least six inches and a light had to be on in the room.)
In the nighttime, the two of us would meet out on the golf course behind the dorm. We’d meet at the green of the seventh hole and lay out, watching the stars, talking, and what-have-you. That was the first time in my life I understood how superfluous sleep was. We would be out there until five or six in the morning, until just before sun up, watching the stars streak and spin across the sky.
Of course, he eventually found out. She told someone who told someone, as all things tend to happen. He forgave us, which was generous, and she eventually started sleeping with someone else.
She broke up with me while we were perusing magazine titles in the library. I picked up a copy of Art Forum and Rolling Stone and told her not to worry about it.
‘It’s cool.’ I lied, and went to sit with my friend, who was reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
winter in the hamptons
She and I were both a bit younger than he was and we both idolized his coolness. Neither one of us wanted to jeopardize our friendship with him by letting him know what was going on between us. So during the daytime the three of us would hang out at the cafeteria, the Art Building, or in the dorm lobby. (It was a Christian college, and the opposite sex was not allowed in the dorms except during weekend visiting hours—and even then the door had to be open at least six inches and a light had to be on in the room.)
In the nighttime, the two of us would meet out on the golf course behind the dorm. We’d meet at the green of the seventh hole and lay out, watching the stars, talking, and what-have-you. That was the first time in my life I understood how superfluous sleep was. We would be out there until five or six in the morning, until just before sun up, watching the stars streak and spin across the sky.
Of course, he eventually found out. She told someone who told someone, as all things tend to happen. He forgave us, which was generous, and she eventually started sleeping with someone else.
She broke up with me while we were perusing magazine titles in the library. I picked up a copy of Art Forum and Rolling Stone and told her not to worry about it.
‘It’s cool.’ I lied, and went to sit with my friend, who was reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
Part two of Nashville:
winter in the hamptons
Posted @ 9:52 AM
1 Comments:
5/19/2005
hot babe writes:
I find it sad that I relate to your posts like this one- but also somehow comforting.
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