bell bottom jeans and flannel

When we were thirteen you had a mushroom haircut and I was still wearing kids jeans. bell bottoms. patchwork and ponytails. When we held hands my heart fluttered. You kissed me in the park. in the snow, with our friends watching us as we stood behind a tree. that closed-mouthed kiss on chapped lips lasted until the spring. When the spring came, you convinced me to walk the three long daunting miles from school to your house. and you brought me to your room where you kissed me again---for real this time. and then your mom walked in. Every Friday Nirvana and Green Day blasted from the speakers as we timidly explored each others bodies as the sun shone through your window. when we were 14 we started a band. i watched in awe as you banged away in your garage. in awe of your two-different colored eyes. awe of your garage that was the perfect teenage wasteland. when we were 15 you broke my heart. my best friend let me seek refuge in her house for the night. i stained her bathtub pink. I fainted 5 times two weeks later. Your flannel shirt enveloped my limp, lethargic 85lb body as I cried into my carpet. i wore those sweatpants ragged. Marlboro Reds became my best friend before they became yours. I blamed you for my downward spiral. I wrote your name on walls. walls that have since been painted over. I stood in the cold watching you from afar. i paid you $10 to sing me a song that wasnt meant for me. that was my first lesson in heartbreak. ive learned a lot since then. maybe i havent learned anything at all. ten years have passed. a lifetime. since we were kids. pink hair, break ups, college and a marriage. time has passed but nostalgia lasts forever.