good blog writers memoir

Sid & Mary, Part 2 (Post 22)

It was just fall and the weather was cool and easy.  I had a delightful, light, buzz on from the party I had just returned from.  I didn’t realize it was Mary on my porch steps until I got up really close.  This was back before cell phones.  Back when a surprise was just that – a surprise.

 

“Hey, what are you doing here?  Where’s Perry?” I asked.

 

“He couldn’t make it,” she said.

 

“Wanna come in?”

 

“Well, yeah. Duh,” she smiled.

 

Mary always did that.  She half-smiled and then laughed.  She did it when she was saying hello, goodbye, and everything in-between.  We went inside.

 

“I don’t know where my roommates are,” I said.

 

Mary said nothing.

 

We took a seat on the couch and just talked.  There wasn’t much light on in the apartment.  Just the street lamps streaming in from outside.  I can’t remember exactly how it happened, but at one point Mary kissed me.

 

I pulled back and stared at her.

 

“Get out,” I said with nothing, but my eyes.  It wasn’t a “get out” like you’re thinking though.  It wasn’t a “get outta here.”  It was a “get out of town.  no way.  did that just happen?!”  I laughed.  She laughed.

 

I leaned in and we kissed again.

 

The kiss was perfect.  Soft and sweet, but hungry and not with all the tonsil-bashing I had been used to from young guys.  We kept kissing, but then I could tell Mary wanted more.

 

My “get outta town” turned into a real, “You gotta go.”

 

She did leave, but it was too late.  I was hooked.  That was it.  Mary, Mary, Mary.  It was all I could think about.  Where is she?  Where was she going?  What was she doing?  I needed to be there.  If Mary was there, I was going to be there.

 

Sid was starting to catch on and I could tell she didn’t like it one bit.  Mary’s spiky-haired, lesbo girlfriend fell out of the picture, somewhere, making her the smartest one of us all.  I remained attached to Mary’s side.  Sid seemed to be everywhere just staring at us with her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised, and a taut frown on her lips.  I ignored it.  I pretended I couldn’t see a thing.  Hell, if you want something – you’ve got to take it.  So…

 

cute dyke cute lesbian

“I’m outta here. It’s a shit-storm.”

 

I latched on to Mary harder.  At one point, Mary even seemed to have a boyfriend, but I didn’t care because we had make-outs on the side.  That had to mean something, right?  So, I did the next best thing I could do…I dated Mary’s boyfriend’s friend.

 

We all hung out.  Mary’s boyfriend, my supposed boyfriend, Mary, and me.  The end two  names were all that mattered to me.

 

I became obsessed.

 

On the night it all ended, it was New Year’s Eve.  I was working and then planned to meet my dysfunctional group at a bar out by the beach.

 

I remember getting into my car.  I remember blasting my music.  I felt good.  Why shouldn’t I?  I was heading in to see Mary.  I arrived and everyone greeted me warmly.  My boyfriend, Mary’s boyfriend, and even Sid.  Everyone was really festive, but -hey- it was New Year’s Eve.

 

I headed into the bathroom after the long car ride.  Sid and Mary were already in the lady’s room coming out of a stall.  That’s when Sid said, “Did you see it?”

 

“See what?” I asked.

 

“See IT,” she repeated while pulling Mary out of the bathroom.

 

Sid yanked Mary’s hand beneath my face and the ring sparkled.  It took me a second to figure out what it was.  It took a second (that felt like an eternity) for it to register in my brain in its simplicity.  It was one of those rare moments in life where I knew that everything was spelled out for me.  There was only one way I could react.  I had to be happy for her.  I had to be happy for Mary.

 

engagement ring

 

“Round of shots on me,” I grunted throwing my hand up into the air.  And with that we headed back to the bar and drank.  If there had been a contest, I can tell you, I drank the most.

 

All of us headed back to Mary’s place after that.  My boyfriend slept on the couch. Sid headed into her room.  And for the first time ever, Mary took her boyfriend into her bedroom instead of me.  I died.  Inside, a part of me completely came undone.

 

I called up a friend of mine – alone, drunk, sitting in their dining room.  She wasn’t even that good of a friend, but I called her anyway.  I had to do something.  She gave me the best advice I could’ve been given.  She said, “Get out of there.  Get out of there and don’t look back.”

 

I never have…until today.

 

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And that, my friends, was my best shot at a Harlequin Romance Novel. Lol. Sweet Mother is updated daily-ish. Follow, by clicking and adding your email to the prompt at the top of the page.

 

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You might also like:

Sid & Mary, Part 1

 

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Photo creds:

feature-girl, ring, cute-dyke

 

38 thoughts on “Sid & Mary, Part 2 (Post 22)

      1. The story is not written yet. It might conflict with the placid, blue-haired cat lady in a rocking chair persona I’m thinking of cultivating. Although I think I might have told Foster some of it :D Fab

  1. Pardon my NAÏVETÉ (had to cut and paste, couldn’t spell it), but I’m feeling like a peeping tom after reading your Harlequin romance. It’s like I’m peering through the mirror into another world. I suppose the stereo-typical male loves to see two women getting it on. Too bad there was hurt involved. But the rest works for me. Kept me reading like I was pilloried to your podium. Well written!

    1. listen, he who, i’ll take readers however i can get them. ;) nah, it was all a long time ago and a bit exaggerated for readability sake, so i’m all good. quite frankly, i’m looking to mine anything as i fumble my way through my last consecutive posts on this year long journey… lool. glad u enjoyed. ;) sm

  2. Never had that – oh, my god, heart being smashed to smithereens feeling about another woman, but with a guy, absolutely (i.e. Post #36 – http://tenaciousbitch.com/2011/10/12/blog-36-new-york-or-bust/ … when my boyfriend told me he was moving in with another woman). Was this in the 80s when this happened with Mary? If your 80s was anything like mine, there was a lot of tumbling in/out of people’s beds, and I always seemed to be the one on the outside looking in, calling someone like you did, so I’d have someone to talk to while I bawled my eyes out about the ONE I wanted who chose someone else! Very brave post. I like the way you wrote it, kind of sketchy without bogging down the reader with a lot of unnecessary detail, which I’m frequently guilty of…:) Thanks for SHARING! :)

    1. tenacious, truly, this comment means a lot to me. it really does. let’s see…that all went down in the late 90s. in the 80s i was around 10-12. lol. but, in the 90s, perhaps, i was whore-ish. i don’t know. i will say, though, in all truthfulness that the above story was about my first heartbreak. there were others, but that was the first. the thing no one ever understands when they’re young and going through it, is that it does get a little easier each time AND every relationship is wrong, until one is right. that’s the unfortunate way it works. anyhoo, i’m really glad you read it and left such an eloquent comment. it means the world to me. off to read your post. much love, sm

  3. Bloody marvellous! Loved the story. I did think it was real, even the Mary & Perry days from part 1. Well done! You are such a talented writer.

    1. you are really so great. all is good. the sweet mother-ites seemed to enjoy the mining of my past tragedies and i need something to goddermned write about!!! loool. seriously, ur awesome, foster. let me know what i need to do with this blog hop thing. much love, becks

  4. I want to go find Mary and wish terrible things on her, deflated tits and floppy nether lips. Terrible female Lothario…horrible woman.

    You did a great story! Made me all teary eyed, made me feel your heartbreak.

    1. valsy, ohhhhhhhhhh u warmed my heart just then. i could’ve used those words 16 years ago. looool. but, she was an a-hole. a 4 year old knows the right thing to do better than some adults. and mary didn’t quite do the right thing in any regard, as far as this story goes. but, the sweet mother-ites seemed to enjoy the story and i got my wifesy, so all really and truly is good in the end. i heart you, valsy. i heart you. mother

      1. Being a long time ago still just doesn’t make things right! Still hope they are flat a saggy, hope she tucks them into her navel at night and has to tie the others up with a string to keep them from squeaking when she walks.

        I hate mean people!

  5. Thanks Mum. :) Real or not, this story grabbed and did not let go until the end. I loved someone like this once, for two years, but he was never going to be anything more than an obsession. I relate. :)

  6. I’m so glad you finally posted part 2. I was NOT happy when you left us hanging last time! :P It was so good, I reread it twice because I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything :)

  7. I think the best fiction draws just enough from real life, whether a writer’s personal experiences or knowledge of someone else’s, to really make the story “pop.” You’ve done that here. :)

      1. For some reason when I was in middle school, my friends and I would get romance novels from the library and read the dirty bits out loud to each other and howl with laughter. So yeah. I get the Harlequin reference.

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