These hands are worn
And these knees are torn,
But I keep marching on.
What I may find, I cannot say,
And so here I go, on my own way.

~ Peace and Love

Memories are curious things.  They can come in scenes or fragments or blanks.  No one seems to have any understanding of how the memories are sorted, but very few people seem to consider the possiblities, either.  I've been led to believe  memories are recalled because they contain some substance important to the person's life.  However, if an event of extremely tramatic (like rape), the victim may not remember the course of the situation.  To add to the confusion, a friend of mine once told me that the human mind "forgets" all memories prior to the age of three since the number of firsts are so great.  And with that thought, I began to dwell on her.

Lauren was a vibrant young woman.  She had coffee with cream hair and smooth olive skin.  Her eyes were as warm and worn as rich leather while her body was long and lean.  In my eyes, she was the most beautiful woman I could've found, and I felt privelged to be in her presence.  There is a light dusting of interesting people scattered around the world which made me all the more devoted to her.  My hometown only has 3,000 residents, so when I met her, I had to wonder if someone like her could even exist.  Without Lauren, I doubt I would've even decided to pursue a career in art.  She made my day, my year, and maybe my life.

I wish I could remember exactly how I came to meet her, but as I said earlier, some memories come in fragments.  I met her through Barbie, a friend of mine from Junior High, during my sophomore year.  I was immediately taken by her personality.  She had little qualms about being unique although we lived in a conservative area.  Anything was possible with her, conventiality wasn't in existence.  We never did pointless, reckless activities like boozing or smoking dope which was an area passtime.  Simply walking around town in jeans and sandles was almost an everyday occurance, but the little stunts made it all worth while.

Our favorite place  to meet in the summer was the Crossroad's Coffee Shop.  When I look into its empty windows revealing nothing but a hollow shell, I want to call up the land lord just to ask if I could sit inside for a time.  The walls are still painted a warm, earthy red and cream with a wallpaper boarder of coffee mugs, and the counters and floors are still expertly polished.  I imagine the kitchen is neat and orderly as always.  In the back of mind, I wonder if the air that has been kept tightly sealed still smells of rich coffee beans.  I can remember Barbie and Lauren's favorite lunch, a grilled cheese on an Italian seasoned bread with a side of potato chips.  They'd get all sorts of sweetened coffees while I'd order a green-apple smoothie or ginger tea.

Crossroads was a gig for the local bands, and Lauren was the coordinator.  She knew all of the bands through her boyfriend at the time, Jeinks.  He was a part of a band called "Swingline Scotch," and although he couldn't sing worth a damn, it was excited to see someone have the guts to try and pull something together.  Those performances put me face to face with teens I had never known to exist in my conservative county.  Punks, goths, hippies, and ravers crawled out of the floor boards as if they had inhabited some underground community.  I was afraid at first because I was incredibly shy, and the thought of men filled be with hatred.  However, Lauren convinced me to open my mind to people.  I credit her with my desire to be free and friendly outside of myself.

Homeless Joe, Crazy Eyes, Fuzzy, Jennika, and Jamika were all the people I met through her.  Although Crazy Eyes disappeared after a painful breakup with our beloved, and Boner Boy became the target of my anti-man wrath (It's been resolved now after he started dating Swirly- a personal friend of mine), I still have a strong friendship with them.  Lauren had given them all their nicknames, including mine.  Since I have naturally curly hair, she dubbed me Mofro, then shortened to Mofo.  That's still the only way most of my friends through her know me, and I would have it no other way.

There are times when I've wondered about why she abandoned me.  I confessed to Barbie and Lauren that I was bisexual first, to test the waters.  Although Barbie took it extremely well and was supportive, Lauren almost instantly pulled away from me, and then she stepped away from the others.  She ignored me all of last year after I revealed my love for her.  I never meant for anything to come of it.  I merely wanted her to understand and accept my love for what it was: admiration.  She keeps in contact with Barbie, but I'm always afraid to ask about her.  Only after a lot of convincing myself, I questioned her about where Lauren had drifted off to.  Apparently, she's attending college in Ohio to pursue art which was something I'd hoped she'd strive for.

Each time I visit Barbie's Myspace, I see a link to her.  It's only a click away, but although I'm extremely curious, I have no idea whether I should try to mend the connection.  She made her feelings clear.  There's little I can do.  However, if I could see her once again, maybe she'd still be the brilliant character I grew to love.  Or perhaps, she's someone I could never know, an enigma so beautiful I'll be subject to adore from afar.

~ Peace and Love