Better as a Memory

My contribution to, A Song from My Story, a Story for My Song. Inspired by the Kenny Chesney song,Better as a Memory. Special thanks to sbrooks103 for making this an exponentially better read than it was when it started and sharing a similar view of the quality of Olive Garden.

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We met like many of us meet the significant people in our lives, through a random collection of incidents beyond our control that fate brought us together. That those incidents happened mainly before we were born, which led us to being in the only Junior High in our hometown is irrelevant as a story always seems to be more mysterious when we use the word fate. We couldn't help what happened to us, it was predestined. The gods had determined our fate before we had ever laid eyes on each other. Or at least that is the line of bullshit that we tell ourselves when life doesn't go the way we wanted it to.

She swore that we knew each other the year before I remember meeting her, but since she wasn't in any of my classes I didn't remember her. I had enough trouble remembering the kids in my actual classes, everyone else were just random faces in the crowd unless I had been in class with them before or had played sports with them. Looking back, the faces in the hall just seem like a blur while I can still remember hers. Let's just call her Marie, and I guess you can call me Joe.

But to me, it was Junior High when we met. I can still remember looking into those brown eyes across the lunchroom and thinking she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. She seemed to be smart, funny, cute, she was a walking vision or at least she was to me.

Eighth grade would start slow but get amazingly better. She had struggled in the advanced math class so she had been sent to my math for morons class where, she quickly was the teacher's darling. I, on the other hand, had the math skills of a twice baked potato on a good day. Anything beyond basic math was and still is a lost cause for me. It really didn't help that her sitting nearby was a distraction.

Screw it, it is all her fault that I suck at math. If she had been ugly then I probably could have gone to Harvard to mop floors and ask people if they liked apples. But no, she had to sit next to me and ruin it for me.

So just a bit about me so when my weird personality comes out it makes sense.

I've known what I was going to do with my life since the time I could crawl. Dad would come home from his drill weekends and I would think he was G.I. Joe himself as he walked in the door. That he looked exactly like Sergeant Slaughter made it that much cooler. Going to the armory was better than going to McDonald's, in my eyes it was Combat Disney World. Reorganize the disgusting storage room? Awesome, how cool! Mom didn't like it when we built the machine gun pit in the backyard but Dad thought it was the greatest thing and still talks about it to this day.

I did what I thought I needed to get ready for my eventual job. I read a lot and I walked everywhere. When I mean everywhere, I mean I would walk all over town just rocking out to my tunes with my headphones plugged in and the world tuned out. Later on I would add running and expand my reach of the town. I had plenty of friends I hung out with at school but none of them lived near me so most of the time it was just me.

So just me on my own little planet, crushing on the cute brunette. I wasn't a bad kid but when siblings who go before you act up, you immediately get labeled a trouble-maker by their former teachers, and it is really hard to break those mental connections of your last name being associated with trouble. Getting kicked out of class for no reason sucked, even if the teachers apologized for doing it afterwards, so I just decided to minimize my frustration and made the executive decision to only go to school four days out of the week. That I skipped over half of the Mondays of the year and no one said a single word to me about it is a testament to how great of a student I was the days I was there, or that the school attendance policies didn't really mean much. Either way, I wasn't there to stare at her like a creeper. To be fair, most boys that age aren't really suave, so they come off as creepers as they just gaze at the object of their affection.

High School was more of the same. We only had a few classes together as she was off in the really smart classes while I was in the smart but doesn't really try groups. We did see each other at lunch every day, which was always a highlight to me. We each had our sports, she excelled at field hockey and softball while I just stuck to football. We both were athletic so we played pretty well. Our teammates weren't, so we often lost. It was just fun to play. Field hockey games overlapped with football practice so I couldn't watch her play but I could for softball. She'd come to the games and watched me.

In hindsight I can clearly see that she was interested in me, but I was stuck in my own little introverted world of my own making. In my own mind I'd somehow decided that since I was going to join the Army I didn't want to leave anyone but my family behind, so I didn't date anyone during my high school time. I didn't drink so I never went to parties. I was never lonely back then and even now I'm perfectly comfortable without anyone else around. It is just who I am.

We had our random interactions during out time. Classes, lunches, seeing each other in the hall. She worked as a lifeguard with some other friends of mine so I'd go visit them. Man did she look great in the red bathing suit while working on her tan. I'd write silly stories about me and my friends giving us funny superhero names. Some were actually funny, others were hurtful, but I was too much of a jerk to see it at the time (sorry, Susan, that was a really mean nickname).

She drove, I didn't. I walked to school despite a bus being available. That I had to walk right by her house was complete happenstance that was beyond my control. If she saw me walk by her house she would offer me a ride, and I'd reluctantly take it. That I refused rides from everyone else including my best friends was overlooked when she offered. I can still remember getting in her car and the Meredith Brooks song, "What Would Happen" was playing on the radio. Now that I think about it I think it was on CD.

Holy shit, looking back I was basically Ray Charles without the cool sunglasses. If you don't remember the song you can YouTube it and you'll understand why I'm kicking myself, now as it is pretty obvious to just about anyone but my clueless self.

Then came prom. And like any fairy tale story you know what happened. Yup, that's right, she went to prom with my best friend while I went with another friend who had asked me to go with her. He had crushed on her hard, and I couldn't have violated bro code to ask her out because he had stated his interest in her while I still kept my interest safely hidden. Once again, looking back, I'm pretty sure Marie hated my prom date. It is amazing how much clearer you can see the world after years have passed. She looked amazing in her dress, what it did to push up her breasts fueled my masturbatory fantasies for years to come. I was in my wide-brimmed hat phase, so in addition to my black tux and goatee, I had on my favorite black Stetson. I looked exactly like the schmuck I was. Prom was memorable, but that is easy to say when your date gets taken away in an ambulance.

After my date was taken away there were a couple of girls who wanted me to dance with them, but I just smiled at them and sat at the table with another friend who didn't dance either. Of course Marie was one of them, along with her best friend Sue and her pseudo friend Leigh. Despite being a lot older, I still don't understand female friend dynamics. Friends one week, sworn blood enemy the next. Wear the same dress and the other girl is suddenly the Antichrist while if I see another guy wearing the same clothing I obviously made a brilliant choice in what to wear, and I now have a new best friend to boot. Maybe someday I'll figure it out, but I'm betting probably not. Either way, they were still friends at that point. I think. Probably. Maybe it had something to do with me making out with Leigh on one of the rare occasions I went to a party. Fuck if I know but let's roll with it so we can move the story along.

After prom we hung out together, went and saw a movie, and then all went back to the shady motel where my date who had been released from the hospital, rejoined our merry band of misfits. I'm sorry but no cool prom sex story for me, while most people started to enjoy themselves I just went home. Yup, just a dork.

Graduation came and went. Most of the senior class went to parties on the beach. I stayed home and got ready for college. I was going to a school a couple of hours away that had a predominantly male student population that made it easy to decide what I was going to wear that day, so let's just call it what is was,

Sausagefest University. Sausage started its ritualistic freshmen hazing weeks before most of the regular students came back. I didn't leave campus again until Christmas, and I hadn't really kept in touch with anyone else from back home except for Sue. Let's talk about Sue. Sue was Marie's best friend. Sue is one of the nicest and sweetest people I've ever met. Like she dressed as a nun one year and it fit her to a T. Super nice person, even when I was being a dick to her (again, my bad). I enjoy writing (I enjoy it, I didn't say I was good at it), so I often wrote to my parents, and even Sue that semester, so she knew when I was going to be home.

Going home from Sausage U for two weeks was like being paroled from prison. No stupid rules to follow, just enjoying freedom or at least my version of it. I hadn't really talked to many of my old friends since I'd gone away to school but Sue, so she invited me out to an informal high school reunion that was conveniently going on at the same shady motel where the post-prom party had been held. It was nice seeing everyone again, and catching up on what they had been doing over the past few months. Most were curious about Sausage U and how different it must be.

Of course I lied and said how great it was. Bragging about being hazed doesn't go over well with most normal people.

And of course, because she was Sue's best friend, Marie was there.

She was laughing and giggling and having a great time. She was enjoying a few drinks, but not to excess, and was just enjoying being silly with old friends. I was still the loser who didn't drink. Don't worry fans, Sausage U was able to teach me a few important lessons regarding alcohol, like that tequila and milk don't go well together, especially coming back up. But I digress.

Marie and I got chance to talk. She told me about her classes, the guy she was dating at the time, and some other stuff that I can't recall. In her silliness she attempted to show me how well she could do a handstand against the wall, and it didn't exactly go the way she planned it, but she did laugh it off. As the night came to a close we decided that we had had a nice time and wouldn't it be nice to hang out again before I headed back.

We decided on going to play a couple of games of pool. She came and picked me up (I still wasn't driving but on the bright side, zero chance of getting a DUI if you don't drink or drive, so I had that going for me). The conversation was relaxed and fun, she had a boyfriend and I obviously didn't have the balls to tell her how I really thought about her. That both of us were awful at it didn't seem to matter. Even the guy she accidentally smacked in the balls with the pool cue didn't seem to mind too much but that could have just been because she looked really cute. The night was nice, just spending time with her was enjoyable. I asked if I could write her, and we said our goodbyes.

We wrote often, and we got to know each other better. The great part of writing to an introvert like me is that I had no interest in talking to other people about myself so there was not much of a chance that I would tell anyone about her thoughts.

She would talk about work, school, her boyfriends, her other friends, you name it, it was a topic of conversation. Not everything she told me put a smile on my face, but I always got a smile when I got a letter from her. She even put wax on the back to seal it which made it just a little more special.

Getting kicked in the balls is one of the most painful experiences in life. Only slightly less painful at the moment but much more devastating long term is hearing the girl that you have crushed on for years tell you how she used to have the biggest crush on you. That, my friends, hurts and it sticks with you. Shooting your shot and missing stinks, but at least you get to say you tried. Letting the moment go without having the intestinal fortitude to ask the pretty girl out is like mental herpes, it sticks with you forever. And now that you have the thought of mental herpes stuck in your head, enjoy using that in a conversation someday.

I had joined the National Guard, so I was going back home once a month for drill weekends. This had long been my plan, regardless of talking to her. It also just happened that I'd get to see her most evenings before drill so it worked out pretty nicely. I got a chance to meet her parents. They were always incredibly kind to me. I always called them Mr. and Mrs. out of respect and it was pretty clear to them I was being sincere. I'd probably still do that today if I ran into them, as they always treated me with nothing but graciousness. I got along with her brother who had been a year ahead of us in school. He was also a nice guy, even if she thought he was a dork.

Over the next couple of months we would often get together when I was home for the weekend if she wasn't busy with school or work. I didn't put any moves, on her at that point because I didn't know if she had a boyfriend because I never asked her, and to be fair it wasn't like I had any moves anyway. I invited her to come up to visit Sausage U, but she kindly rebuffed me, saying that her parents wouldn't allow her to, or at least that is what she told me at the time.

Over the summer I went to Basic Training, but we continued to write to each other. After the hazing of freshmen year of college, basic training was pretty easy in comparison. The Army is basically a Simon Says game were you get a paycheck on the first and fifteenth if you follow directions. Forrest Gump is clearly the most honest movie about the Army because it shows that even if you are a moron, if you run fast enough you can be a Sergeant.

Getting letters from her completely made my day every time I got one. Despite being there for months, the time went by pretty quick. We decided to go see a movie so when I flew home, within hours we were sitting in a crowded movie theater. If you've ever heard of the Blair Witch Project you may have heard that it was supposed to be real footage, which I guess added to the fear from the movie. Coming from basic I didn't get the memo that it was supposedly found footage, so I'm telling everyone that they were actors and that I'd seen them in other movies. It was fun being out with her, just being around her put a huge smile on my face.

This would be the pattern for the next year. Whenever I was home we'd spend time together. Movies, dinner, hanging out at bars that allowed people under 21 in. Some people understandably thought we were a couple because we were always together, and would give me a funny look when I told them we were just friends. It was absolutely true, even if it tore me up inside. I was totally into her, but she just wanted me as a friend. Have you ever been run over by the friendship bus? It hurts. Especially when it comes back again and again to its regularly scheduled stop, right on your heart.

I'd invite her up to visit, she'd shoot me down. Eventually, Sue and Leigh came up for a visit and seemed to have a good time. Nothing happened over the weekend, but we all seemed to have a good time.

The school year ended and I was on my way back down south for my Advanced Individual Training, which is basically Basic Training part two. It was even easier the second time since the drill sergeants didn't really seemed to care since everyone was National Guard and they were all active duty. The only thing of note was that one of the drill sergeants seemed to have stolen a picture of Marie I had in my locker. It wasn't lewd, just her smiling but it was in my locker before the inspection and it was gone afterwards. Which really sucked because she looked super cute and it was my favorite inspiration for late night trips to the latrine by myself if you catch my drift.

As training came to close I received a letter asking if I would like to join Sue and Marie at the beach. Sue's boyfriend would be going with us. Of course I said no to going, and that I didn't want to spend time with them at the beach.

Yeah, right.

So a couple of days after getting back home, we were on our way to the beach. Sue and her boyfriend in one room and Marie and I in the other. We did the normal things like enjoying the sand and the water. We all had a nice dinner together before going to our separate rooms for the evening. There was clearly a different mood between us than normal.

We went for a walk on the beach at night and it was a bit chilly so I gave her my Sausage U sweatshirt to wear. It had my name on it so in some ways it symbolized that she was mine. The stars and moon were out, it was about as romantic of a moment that you could ask for. I leaned in to kiss her and she kissed me back. I smiled a stupid smile and then leaned in to wrap her in my arms as we continued to kiss on the sand. Some other people on a late-night stroll came over close to us so we decided to take it back to the room.

She went to the bathroom to change while I stripped down to my boxers. She came out in a really cute black baby-doll that showed off the amazing body that only a twenty-year-old could have.

We kissed and then I slowly helped her down into the bed. Another kiss on the lips, then I slowly started kissing down her body. Down her neck to her collar. Down her chest to her breasts. Kissing her stomach through the baby-doll. Her hips, down her thighs, the back of her legs and then her toes. Even her toes were sexy. I could barely control myself, I had my goddess before me and she was finally going to be mine.

I slowly kissed and licked my way back up to her thong. Kissing over the thong, I slowly traced my fingers down the inside of her thigh. Her soft moans were the only noise in the room.

Peeling the thong to the side I enjoyed my first taste. She had talked about how she didn't enjoy oral sex but she really seemed to be enjoying herself at the moment if the noises and her body movements were any indications. Soft flicking of my tongue teased her. Then I added a finger. Then another. My tongue and fingers enjoyed exploring her lovely body while her moans motivated me to keep going.

She clearly came easily if my face and the sheets were evidence.

When it was her turn to play with me it was clear that I was aroused. I'd been hard since the beach earlier and tasting her hadn't helped out my problem.

She reached inside my pants and started to stroke me while she kissed me. The feeling of her touch and the moment and the overwhelming sensation of finally being with her actually did cause a problem.

As I said before, I didn't date often. I hadn't had sex up to this point. She knew this and it had actually been a topic of conversation as she'd had conversations with her cousins about how she shouldn't sleep with virgins since they don't know what they are doing. Unfortunately, I would end up supporting that theory.