I went to see a good friend of mine yesterday. She’s been going through some rough times, so I thought it would be nice to have some one on one time with her. We’ve had somewhat of a strained relationship since we met in junior high. While I’m quiet and introspective, she’s vociferous and expressive, but our two personalities mesh well together. That’s why I look forward to seeing her. She lives in an apartment alone, and since she’s become unemployed, she’s been struggling to keep it. The economy in my county is terrible, and even qualified adults aren’t having any luck in finding employment. Businesses are turning away teenagers because so many adults are desperate for a job. Therefore, her job hunt has been fruitless. She had been hired to work as a waitress at a very well-to-do restaurant, but the employer over-hired which left her out on the street. I only found this out last night. I guess my intuition brought me to her in the event of her distress.

Shannon is a very passionate young woman. After our school failed to have enough members for a wrestling team, she decided to go on the individual circuit. She recently became the tenth ranking female competitive wrestler in the United States as well as the state’s top freestyle wrestler. She has also landed a free ride to Northern University of Michigan, and she might become a candidate for Olympic wrestling since the Olympic clinic up there is very interested in her. Without a doubt, she is a strong woman with outstanding goals. However, she cannot shake away her humanity. Her anger is often rash, and at times, her passion can become oppressive. Once while wrestling me, I found I couldn’t breathe; she didn’t take notice although I was struggling so fiercely. Finally, I had to bite her hard enough to draw blood for her to stop.

What worries me most about Shannon is her need to be loved, no matter how brief the feeling lasts. Her taste in men usually falls into the following category: middle-aged, wealthy, and career driven. After a time of about two weeks, she is suddenly surprised and appalled to discover his ulterior motives (which to everyone else were readily apparent). I try to pick up the pieces the best I can. Perhaps my behavior just perpetuates her mishaps, yet I can understand her desire for such men. She wants something stable, a man grounded with responsibility, to tether herself to earth because she continues to rise further and further into the clouds. Though I try to be aware of and change my fate appropriately, she is willing to let the current take her to where it will, assuming her destination will be a happy one. Therefore, a man who’s found himself a successful career has immediate appeal because he has his ducks in order while hers swim off in different directions.

The only behavior of hers which angers me is the way in which she toys with my feelings for her. During the last school year, I informed my friends of my bi-sexual tendencies which caused a reasonable amount of confusion. I hate to used the words confessed or admitted because it sounds as if my interests are wrong or dirty, but I digress. Shannon, who prior to this announcement wouldn’t let me sleep on her bed because she was such a homophobic, was immediately supportive which I appreciated living in Conservative America. I have tried again and again to make it clear to my friends that I would not put myself on any of them. It’s not because I don’t find them attractive; Shae is very hard not to get excited about with a great set and a firm ass! Still, I suppose it did come as quite a shock for many of them, two of which have struggled to keep the unfounded rumor of them being lesbians quiet.

Shannon quickly turned after I came out of the… I have no idea what the expression would be for a bi-sexual. Anyway, she suddenly began seeing these curious men. Her escapes in romance became a whirlwind of names and images, and although she’s dated over twenty-five guys in the past three months, I’ve only met two. The true trouble came when she called one winter’s evening. She sounded so deeply hurt over the phone asking me if she could come over and ask me something every important. Of course I was only too happy to let her visit, especially hearing her sound so helpless for the first time I’ve known her, so I told her to come right over. Once we’d chatted for a bit, she blurted out, “Bri, will you take some nude pictures of me for my boyfriend? I know you’re bi-sexual and all so I thought you’d be cool with it.” I was stunned. Sure, Shannon has an athletic body and all, but as I said before, I don’t really go for my friends. It’s too awkward, and after you start to have a sexual relationship with a friend, you can never really go back to what it was before. I politely told her this again which she reluctantly accepted (only after asking if I’d at least do a topless shot which I again said no to). We talked for another couple eerie hours, and then she decided she’d ask Barbie (still rumored to be a lesbian just because she’s never had a boyfriend or been interested in finding one).

We were out at my driveway by her car, and I was saying good-bye whe she spun around and told me proudly, “I’m bi-sexual, too, you know. I just came from a threesome with Homeless Joe and Jenn; by the way, she’s bi-sexual, too. If you and Hatchi are ever up to it, I’ll come over!  Be sure to ask him!” Then she tried to kiss me on the lips, but I flinched just enough so she got my cheek. She proceeded to move to my neck which left me rigid. I stumbled back into my house with a stunned expression, went straight for the bathroom, and took an hour long shower. I was panicking something awful. My body felt excited and violated all at the same time, and I went between laughing and crying. If I ever experience that again, I think I’d fall apart. There were too many conflicting emotions inside me, and I never have quite figured out why I reacted so violently.

After recovering from my childish breakdown, I was okay with it all. I figured she was probably exploring her own sexuality, so I tried to remain calm and collected as always. I put it behind us, and she didn’t seem to recall the incident. We went on with our lives and being friends for a time until her next party at her apartment. Ultra Whore (Before I sound like an ass, this girl does pimp herself out. She has been very forthcoming with information on the subject.) came over as well, and after the two became drinking margarita mix with vodka, not the best of combinations I’m sure, she confronted Shannon on an accusation that she had slept with another girl in a neighboring town. Shannon was furious, slurring that “I would never sleep with a girl. I’m not some fucking lez-bo!”

Deep inside I was burning while on my neck and cheek I felt my skin turn bright red. My reasonable self was trying to soothe me with thoughts like, “She’s protecting herself. Not everyone can deal with the stigma."  However, my emotional self was arguing, “She wanted to use me! If she can’t defend her sexuality, then she shouldn’t have admitted to it! Since when does she back away?"  I only opened up to Hatchi about my fury. I knew it was foolish, but to this day, I feel some resentment. One should be honest to everyone, especially when it comes to differences. It is the one thing I have trouble forgiving her for. Last night she had told me once again that she was bi-sexual, but I have the feeling it’s simply another way for her to get what she feels she needs.

Though we may have our sexuality dividing us, Shannon is still one of my closest friends. She’s the one I know I can rely on for an honest opinion, and I’m sure to do the same for her. She’s the one who doesn’t laugh at my music selection while we sing the words to songs that last reached the greatest hits in the 60‘s. She’s the one that never questioned my decision to attend Kendall College for Art and Design, so far from home. She’s the one who will take a walk with me just because. She’s the one who lets me paint whatever comes to mind onto her walls. She’s the one I can call up after work to make a fruit pizza at midnight. Most importantly, she’s the one that’ll never forget me, nor will I ever forget her.

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