Recurring Story

non-subject: a recurring story
AWW ~ march 21, 2012

(Type Carol, irregardless of the effect of the oxycodone you took an hour ago for the shooting pain from the inside of your ankle.)
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I started drinking alcohol when I was in at least 9th grade, when I was around 15 years old. I don't recall the first time I drank. But I know I was in at least 9th grade because that's when I dated Dale.

Dale was 19 years old and used to drink almost every day. On nine different occasions he hit me after he'd been drinking too much; he always hit me because of jealousy, out of fear I'd cheat on him or that I had flirted too much or that I was showing too much leg.

I was athletic and petite in 9th grade, and I was a cheerleader. When Dale attended a game where I was cheerleading in my sky-blue-and-white-striped short skirt that revealed my sky-blue flesh-filled bloomers and bare thighs when I did a kangaroo jump, his eyes would be staring at me from the bleachers where he sat. His eyes owned me; they owned the flesh inside my bloomers. Most always he would have been drinking.

When I'd see his eyes, I felt wanted. I felt desirable. I felt I pleased him with my body and my faithfulness to him. He'd smile. My heart would quiver. I'd become moist. I knew what we'd be doing later in the back seat of his gold-colored Cutlass Supreme that had a black vinyl roof.

Often his drinking buddy, Scott, would be sitting with Dale in the bleachers. Sometimes when Dale had his eyes fixed on me, he'd say something to Scott. Scott would chuckle. I figured Dale said something about me.

But Dale was quiet, not a loud mouth. Our love life was private, wasn't it? I mean, we were an item; everyone knew we were dating. How many knew I put out for Dale? How many knew I'd put out for Marshall in previous years? But I only put out because I was in love and they loved me too; at least they said they did.

A few years later, when I was 17 and was living with Frank who was 22 years old, Frank used to introduce me to his friends as "This is my lady, Carol." I always liked that, how he called me "his lady."
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