Current mood:	contemplative
Entry tags:	first boyfriend, gary, memories

[Memories] Gary
Lately, my thoughts have turned to Gary.

When I was eighteen, Gary was my world. Though almost thirty years my senior, he was, at that time, my lover. He was more than my lover, he was -- in many ways -- also a mentor. Though I hated lying to my family, the time I had with Gary produced some of the happiest, most exciting moments I've had in my life. It was the first time I'd ever felt attractive -- I'd spent the prior years thinking of myself as frail, unsightly, and yes, even unlovable. But Gary's touch? It was nearly healing. Looking into his cobalt eyes, all of that melted away even if for that brief time I had with him. Many of the things that I find alluring in a man, were because I had the benefit of having a wonderful first lover. The shaved head, the silver in the goatee, the piercings, the scent of the leather on his body, the FUR everywhere -- they were all a part of him, and I remember those fondly.

The other day I walked past someone who was wearing a cologne that Gary wore, and it stopped me in my tracks. With just that scent, I was taken back to 1997, to that hotel room, to having his warmth surrounding me, his big hands exploring me, our mouths meeting, my shirt unbuttoning. Back to his touch, his taste, and yes, his scent, that caused everything around me to just vanish, that made nothing matter or even exist but the two of us. Back to yearning for the sensations he caused to never end, and to the heartbreak when we'd part ways, and I would go back to my "regular" life, a life which was not really my own life anymore, but a series of prememorized answers, pronoun games, and a finely woven layer of lies to hide my indiscretions.

The last time I saw Gary was in 2003. I was still in college, and I met him for a breakfast at a mediocre Denny's in the town next to my parents' house. As he drove me home, he found a secluded place, turned to me, and I felt that kiss once again, and a wave of memories had hit me once more, and once more I yearned for Gary. After teasing pawing and plenty of tongue wrestling, we got back to my parents', and that was when he gave me the tank top he had on before driving off. That scent -- oh, that scent! It was the last memory I have of Gary, and that shirt had been sitting in my miscellaneous drawer ever since.

I wonder where he is, where he's gone. I wonder how he might respond to me now; what he thinks of my new life, of my partner, of the fact that I'm certainly a different person than I was back in 1997, or even 2003. I still think of him fondly, and sadly I haven't found him on any of the networking sites and, hell, he probably has no idea I moved. The number he had was for my parents' place and the number was disconnected soon after my father passed. I'd love to see him again; to "bridge" him back into this chapter in my life; to look into those cobalt eyes of his again, to see that smile, and to hear his voice call me "lover" once more.