Regrets, I’ve Had A Few…

The play was fantastic. The exchanges were sweet. Our hankies were always on opposite sides. We looked good together. We smiled a lot, some of the time. We both like white bandannas, and boys. I wanted to make her bleed, and teach her to do the same to me. Some sort of babes in the wood vibe hit me hard with this one, which may have been inappropriate or entirely misread, and I wanted to engage in dress-ups and plan adventures, act out our favourite scenes from Bataille or The Leatherman’s Handbook, exchange skills and ideas, roll around in our own filth and explore the possibilities. It could have been a nice sometimes thing, an every now and then sleepover or booty call, a ‘see you at the party, bring gloves and wear your pinafore’ type of affair. Perhaps it still could be. Maybe next time it will last for longer than this, not end so strangely, not leave me with a strange aftertaste and these Pavlovian responses to diesel and be called ‘girl’.

Sip the honey, spit the sting. Thank the heavens that I had those moments of magic and meat. Thank my lucky stars to have been reawakened to possibilities, reassured of my own playing and pulling potential. Then again, I have always been very good at beginnings.