Here I would like to take a moment to share a bit of my “previous life.” I was 21 years old when I started writing a journal in 1995 and I intend to put it in my autobiography. So without further ado, here you go:
[First let me state that all names and places have been replaced with false names, including my own pen name, LaVancia Phoenix, in order to respect the privacy of those from my past.]
January 13—Well, this week’s been very interesting. I love going to school. Biology will be easy, just time consuming to read the biology book. History looks like I actually have a decent professor. His tests will come directly from the lecture. I read the chapters before class; so when he lectures, I just go back to the book and make a mark reinforcing what he had lectured.
I’ve already read chapter twenty-five in History and two chapters in Biology. In Biology, we are studying the animal kingdom. Biology lab is boring—basically looking at things and sketching them; making observations and answering questions in the book. Pre-calculus will be a bore: just another good review to reinforce what I already know. I wish I could have tested out of this class. He’s a good teacher and will take things a little slow so my math skills will be “expert.”
In tennis, there are like five guys and three girls. I played on Wednesday. The weather was like seventy degrees with a wind, but great. Today, we’ll probably be indoors. On Tuesday and Thursday is English comprehension and Computer programming. In English, it looks similar to English V [from high school]. We will be doing a research paper; something new will be in the last week—drama.
Computer programming is the only subject that is pretty much entirely new to me. I remember learning some back in 8th grade at Jenks and a little my senior year at high school. I fully intend to embrace this class with enthusiasm and energy. I feel so happy to be back in school. The class time flies. It’s also great to be up at 6:30 a.m. most mornings. I tend to just drink some coffee and not eat until after school.
Anyway, my social life is soaring rapidly into unexpected highs. Luke came in to work around 7:00 p.m. Tuesday (January 10th). We talked a little; then he left for Clover and said he’d be back. He wanted to see the kitchen. I was thrilled. It’s the first time I’d gotten to talk to him in a week.
He came back around 9:15 p.m. and stocked the laundry bar. At 9:30 p.m. I was finished cleaning and we went into the office to talk. I showed him my pictures from Nathaniel’s Birthday to Christmas to New Years. He liked some of my scenic shots as well.
He asked me if I had any papers; I said, “But of course, don’t ask a stupid question!”
He told me how Brandy [his wife] has gained all this weight mostly from water retention. He showed me a picture of her two years ago when she weighed one hundred and thirty pounds. He said that he couldn’t even hug her or kiss her because it caused her pain.
We then went to the house. I made a bet first. If he didn’t like the kitchen, then I owed him five hours of free labor; if he did and was impressed, he owed me a dinner date. He liked it and said, “Looks like I owe you dinner.”
He rolled the last of his stash from the Caribbean and we got stoned and talked for over an hour. I told him about my sex life and how it’s mostly been a disappointment. He suggested at least thirty minutes of foreplay and to take your time. We discussed how it’s a mental thing to have an orgasm. He told me his dream was to retire at fifty. He intends to sell all his rent houses and businesses and [go on] vacation. I said, “Well, you might live to be hundred, are you going to have enough to support yourself?”
He grinned real big and said, “Oh yeah … Oh yes.” [Alert! Alert! Incoming EGO-oooo.…]
I found out that he has been fantasizing about us. Like horseback riding on a beach or hiking, backpacking together. He told me he feels like he’s going insane. He has no one to talk to. He’s told no one about me. I confessed that Kristine knew because I had to tell. I said I was glad to hear that he’s suffering as much as me.
I almost told him about my thoughts that I had wrote down. I’m going to wait. I just can’t believe he feels exactly like I do. He’s just struggling with the issue of whether it would be right to have an affair with me. He wouldn’t tell Brandy. He still loves her and I am in no way jealous of that love.
He asked me what turns me on and I replied, “I don’t know.”
I wasn’t about to tell him the truth just yet. He turns me on completely. Everything about Luke is a complete turn on. I feel like an electric current is pumping through my body turning me inside out and backwards when I see Luke. Or just think about him. It’s not just the physical aspect.
It’s just Luke: everything about him—physical, mental, emotional. It’s as if a bolt of lightning goes zap right through the two of us when we are together … even talking on the phone.
I adore him and care about him more than anybody and I trust him. I suggested that if he wants sex, then why not go to another woman he’s had sex with before, that way Brandy wouldn’t feel so bad about it. He said no, that if he were going to do anything, it would be with me because he feels like he knows me and he trusts me! And he does.
Anyway, he got up to leave and said he wanted to kiss me and I said yeah, me too (I’m getting chills thinking about this.) We started to French [kiss], but I let up because I had cotton mouth and so I hugged him tightly. He said he missed holding someone. My arms were wrapped around his neck; my face buried into his soft upper shoulder … the heat between us felt intense. We held each other for what seemed an eternity—about sixty seconds.
I told him, “You’re sweet.”
He whispered, “You are sweet too.”
I felt safe, secure, comfortable and excited. This was the first physical contact we’d ever made. When we released, I brushed back slowly and realized my nipples were rock hard. I wondered if Luke noticed. His lips were very soft—I know how we would kiss … kind of like Ralph, but only better. Luke walked over to the door and left and said he’d be back to put the dead bolts in. I told him goodnight.
Neither of us dared say what our hearts were whispering. It’s frightening for me to believe the truth. It’s not as if we rushed into this relationship.
It is rather awkward.
He is supposed to be here tonight to put in the dead bolts. I want to go out with him. I want to hold his hands and let him hold me.…
6:00 p.m.—I am wearing my oversized long-sleeve green and purple plaid shirt, my bleached wranglers, high-tops, and a new black hat. I put make-up and earrings on. Luke has been to Jacksonville and Clover stores earlier today (probably around 11:00 a.m.), so I’m sure that he will come back for me tonight around 9:20 p.m. I don’t know if he’ll bring a joint or not.
It doesn’t really make a difference to me. I just want to hold him again and perhaps surprise him with a great French kiss before he has time to react. I know he is a sensual person and that kissing and hugging each other will satisfy us for now. I refuse to jump into the bedroom scene until I am completely comfortable with him—which will probably take only a few minutes!
But, I do have control. [Ah! What confidence! What bravery! What conviction! What a load of shit!]
There you go! A taste of the old life. Let me know if it makes you want to read more or not. Thanks, LaVancia