Sunday, 8 May 2011

HELLO TO THE BOY WHO FIRST KISSED ME.

I still remember the first boy who kissed me, I remember him so well.  I loved riding horses. It was 1965 or thereabouts. I had blond hair in plaits and was very pretty. The blond hair blued eyed look of a little girl.  Five years old looking probably about twelve, too pretty, too young, too precocious.  It was however one of the reasons I decided to get fat. I thought it would keep virginal, and indeed it did.
I was studying with one of the best riding teachers in England.  Her name was Betty Skelton. She had a riding stables in Andover, Hampshire.  It was a hot Summer and I was there for about four weeks.  We were given filthy food, good ponies and I slept in this dirty caravan for the whole time.  It was better than living in the house because there were lots of mice.
There was an incredible looking boy there called John Von Mehren.  He was keen on me. I was friends with his sister Katy.  I remember everything as if it was two minutes ago.  I liked him a lot. Who would not? Evan at five or six, he was totally charming and gorgeous. Long hair, athletic body, masses of charm. In the afternoons we used to ride together. We really got on.  He kissed me every afternoon, he was sweet to me, he would say lovely things to me.  I thought I was much older than I was.  He must have thought I was older too. In any case, there were no rules, he was gorgeous.  He kissed me to the music of Bridge of troubled water.  He would educate me about music.  I really liked him. I wanted to marry him when I was older, and he told me he would marry me. I never saw him again. He was so modern so incredibly cool. He looked like a good looking  American dude.
He wrote to me and said he loved me, it seems so ridiculous, I was a little girl, he was just a boy.  It seems sad. I panicked and was horrified that my Mother may find the letter, so tore up the letter and wrote and said I never wanted to speak to him again.
I have often tried to find him. I kept in touch with his sister Katy for one or two years.   Today I think I did find him, which is why I am writing this. He died it seems in 2005 of lung cancer, aged just 50.  I often thought about him. 
After that Summer I decided to get fat.  I thought it all through. I was too blonde, too pretty.  I ate until I was hidden under a layer of porkiness.  I was methodical.  Then I decided to get evan fatter in my teenage years, in order to stop me from being promiscuous. Hiding away under three stone of lard, in order to keep men away.  I lost the whole lot, sixty pounds when I was 23 and getting married. I went as thin as possible for my marriage.  When I got skinny I remember my then husband said "yuc you have got disgustingly thin" and promptly went of with another round woman.

There was my answer.
I have often thought about this good looking boy, talented, fun and happy, that I turned away.  I have often wanted to lie in the arms of somebody as fun and beautiful as that.  My friend if its you up there in the heavens, I say "hello and sorry".

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