I get goosebumps just reading the lyrics of that. What a song.Out on the road today
I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac
A little voice inside my head said
“Don't look back, you can never look back”
I thought I knew what love was, what did I know?
Those days are gone forever
I should just let them go but...
I never will forget those partiesI can see you, bonfire night at the pub,
Looking like a Hollywood star
Got the hots for you baby...
Facebook stalked you,
Remember me from burger king?
I felt you up in corner
Keep on stalking her, wait for her to check in somewhere On Facebook, then boom you're in, fancy seeing you hear after all this time, then whisper into her hear "I can't get you out of my mind, can I have another stinky finger"Here’s an interesting scenario for you blue mooners to psychoanalyse.
Not really asking anything here, more for your thoughts on this type of thing.
Last week I took the kids to see my mother who lives some way away so it’s not something we do enough.
We took my daughter’s dog down and whilst there went for a little walk. I took them round were I grew up (it was a 1960’s version of a Barrat/Wimpy Homes self contained estate a mix of detached houses and bungalows.
On the way to small park to walk the dog we walked past a road a few mins away from my mother’s.
I walked past a house of a girl I used to ‘get off’ with at parties when I was 14/15 and a bunch of memories came flooding back. I was intensely shy in my teens (and carried on into my 20’s, though I often masked it as best I could).
The only reason we got it on was due to alcohol. We had these local parties in halls (sports halls/club halls etc) every so often and it’s amazing to think how many kids my age were able to drink in these places!.
One of the reasons I’ll never come down too hard on alcohol - I could’ve never done the things I did without it. It was my crutch.
I’d turn up see her and neither of us said a word (I couldn’t approach her).
Couple of drinks later and we’d just kind of collide then (literally) spend the next couple of hours kissing in a dark corner of the hall.
Remember when you first discover ‘French kissing’ and it’s just overwhelming. I can’t actually remember saying much if anything to her, but it was just beautiful (hand under skirt may have been implemented too).
It was my first proper experience and to this day I’ve never been close to having the depth of lust and embrace. After the party I’d walk her home (to that house mentioned above) and then we’d find somewhere else to stop and continue just kissing. Can’t remember how many parties this happened - 4-5 perhaps. Never saw her outside of the parties.
My best mate was her good friend (they went to a different comprehensive school) and she once asked me out via him. I remember sitting with them in a Wimpy/Burger King or some other place around that time, but my shyness and/or something else put paid to a relationship. Something about the magic of those parties never materialised in the day/other times.
About 6 months maybe a year after these parties ended I saw her at a bonfire event at a local pub (I was probably about 16 then). She pointed over/nodded on and mentioned my name to her friends, but again I couldn’t approach her. The teen head universe is a strange one.
After last week I thought I’d try and see what she was up to these days.
I’ve always thought about those times as they’re amongst my strongest memories growing up. She had a weird surname (Polish sounding) and so I had a bit of time yesterday afternoon so I tried to search. Nothing at all came up. My best mate above doesn’t have her as a contact neither does anyone in that area I have on FB.
Then, randomly a photo of a bunch of people I once vaguely knew (from the area, these parties but not school) appeared on FB.
I’d been struggling to remember what she looked like but there she was - she stood out straight away (may have been 16 when the pic was taken - so approx 32 years ago). There she was looking like an 80’s Hollywood teen actress. Her name came up (I’d been spelling it up) as tag, but annoyingly a dead tag.
I read the comments and they’d asked what she was up to these days, but what was nice was how highly valued she was to this group, describing her as beautiful and funny (and she was….and lil ol shy me bagged her many times).
All this evoked a bit of an emotional response. I had this sense of joy and was beaming all afternoon (I’ve not over analysed why, but it was this deep sense of ‘wonderful’).
One comment was from someone I have on contact list (saying she’d spoken to her 8 years and she’d moved down south). From there I’ve managed to find her (I’m not stalking honest!).
I don’t want to go back to my past and nostalgia can often bite.
You can never really ‘go back’.
It’s not something I want to poke (ignore the pun). I don’t feel any attraction anymore nor do I wish to try and re capture those times and although it looks like she may have separated I’ve no desire to get in touch.
We’re completely different people from those times.
But part of me wants to say hello and say thanks for making me feel so happy during those brief times, almost like passing on a bit of good will (an old school friend did something similarly to me recently whilst she was drunk messaging on FB and was embarrassed the next day, but I thought it was really sweet).
I never captured that passion again (and may never do again), but those are experiences that occur in our teens aren’t they?
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