Let's Talk About Sex {Not for Everyone}
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| Sex |
Growing up in the sixties was kind of like being in The Dark Ages of Sex. Things were starting to change; we had bra burners and "free love" in the late sixties, but the generation of kids that were teenagers, very close to being adults, but not quite, were on their own. There was no sex education in school, science classes briefly taught the reproductive process, but that was like ancient history. We knew the basics, mostly from talking to our friends, a few books, if you could check them out, and maybe snippets from movies. Parents had failed to explain the birds and the bees. And maybe it was just as well because they probably didn't even know all the good and bad stuff themselves. Breakthrough movies like Midnight Cowboy and Bonnie and Clyde that featured sex scenes were eye-opening, but they still didn't explain things. I would say that Bonnie and Clyde was the most realistic, depicting a bedroom scene where Warren Beaty was not able to meet horny Faye Dunaway's needs. I understood, but I didn't. Okay, he couldn't perform, but why was she so mad? The Big O was not talked about much. You didn't really know what it was if you never had one, right? At that time, sympathy may have favored Clyde because he didn't get to do his deed. It was a confusing time.
I'm sure that many girls were very disappointed with their first "going all the way encounter." Is that all there is? What's the big deal? How sad that we were getting married so young and that we had to wait until after we were married to find out that our sex lives were inadequate. And then the babies came, and now sex was secondary to childcare. I think we were cheated, not just the young ladies, but guys too. Girls had it hammered into their heads that they had to be a virgin when they got married. They had to protect that nugget until the wedding night. Was it worth it? I don't think so. I believe that is why most of us had more than one marriage, we married too young, and we were expecting to be ravished and satisfied like the women in romance novels. FICTION. And that brings me to continue my story.
I think we may have all experienced magic with the opposite sex. You know, that strong attraction, where just looking at someone makes you weak in the knees, your stomach flutters and feels weird, and the accidental touch of your hand or face becomes electrified. That voice in your head is screaming at you yes, yes, and from somewhere, who knows where I don't, someone who sounds like you screams 'No!", "Stop!". That was the voice of your mother in your sub-conscience, not you. It wasn't that you didn't want to take it; further, you had to protect that nugget, that damn nugget. I ruined my life for 40 years because of that damn thing; it kept its distance from the nugget harvester that I should have complied with. (That reference will be explained in another blog.) Looking back, I feel cheated. I think my whole life would have been different, it may not have been better, but it would have been happier.
And so we get back to David and our month together before he left for Vietnam. He was always "the magic man," that was always the attraction. He kissed better than any guy in my whole life. He had electricity pulsing from his body like an aura. Just the slightest touch of his hand, the way he looked at me, it was making me crazy. It was making him crazy too, but he never took advantage of it. If I could have wiped out that picture of my mother's face from my head, I would have been mouldable putty in his hands.
For a month, we both suffered. The thought that something might happen to him, the thought that he could be killed, seemed like the justification for being deflowered. It might be our only time that we could be together in this life. I was a nervous wreck. If I had had somebody that I could have talked to rationally to advise, maybe I would have reversed my decision, but I didn't. I would go home after being out with him and cry. It wasn't fair that the expectations of other people were dictating my life. I was so confused.
About a week before he left, he asked me to marry him when he returned from Vietnam. He had already started divorce action, and it would become final by the time he came home. Of course, I said yes. Now we had to tell my mom. Ugh! This was going to be the pits. When we got back to my house, he came up to my apartment. When I brought him in, icicles fell from my mom. He was nice, and she was aloof. She said okay, but there would have to be things that they needed to talk about later. She announced my brother would be coming back on leave from Vietnam in a couple of days. David would have to meet him and tell him we were getting married. What the heck did my brother have to do with anything? He said he would meet him and tell him.
Every night that we had to say goodbye until the next day was torture. I wouldn't let him leave. I would keep him standing in the hall, behind the wall where my mom couldn't look out of the peephole, and cling to him. Tears would well up in my eyes, and he would have to reassure me that everything was going to work out. Then I would go into the house and go straight to my room. This night was different. My mom stopped me. She told me that I was making a huge mistake, that he was too handsome, and that women would always be after him, and I would end up being alone. Really? Is that what happened to her? How could she say that to me? I told her that I was not worried that we had known each other for 3 years, and we always ended up back together. I told her that I didn't care what she thought, that I would be 18 when he got back, and she would not be able to do anything about it. And then I went into my room.
The next day I told David what she had said, and he just laughed it off. I had been around him after we had split up before and had watched girls throwing themselves at him literally, and he never returned the favors. At the drive-in one night when I was with Steve, I watched a girl crawl all over him and watched him physically remove her from the car. I was taking it all in, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut; I wanted to kick her skanky butt. I wasn't worried about his loyalty.
On Saturday, David came up to meet my brother. I just let them talk and went into my room. Ronnie seemed to be taking great pleasure in discussing how much worse Vietnam was than how it was presented on TV. He talked about the gore and killing people and seeing people killed. I was tired of hearing it, so I went out to the living room. I told David we had to be leaving soon. So, he told my brother that we were going to get married and that he would take care of me, blah, blah, blah. Ronnie said he didn't have a problem with it. Okay, he was cutting in on my vamping time; we left.
The sexual tension between us was getting unbearable. We were smoldering, and you could see the smolder, I am sure. We kept people around us to reduce the opportunity for nugget plucking. When I went home that night, my brother made a big point of telling me how he could look at somebody and tell if they were going to come back from Vietnam. He said he had never been wrong. I made no comment and left the room. Why would he tell me something like that? What an ass. I cried myself to sleep.
The next day, I told David what he said. I was quite upset. I was a basket case. He looked funny when I told him; I said that the only reason I was telling him was so that he would not take any chances or do anything stupid, no John Wayne actions. He assured me that he wouldn't, but he failed
to tell me, on purpose, that he would be the machine gun guy, in other words, a big target. I didn't find that out until he sent me a picture of himself and another big guy who was also the machine gun guy. That young man was killed in front of David after he had been there for only a month.
He was picking me up from work, and we were going out alone; we only had one more day together. We went to the drive-in and saw a poor movie choice, a war movie called The Devil's Brigade. Bad choice of movies. He gave me a ring that night. Wow. I wanted to rip my clothes off and throw myself at him. I asked him if we could leave and go somewhere more private. I told him I wanted all of him before he left, that I didn't care about anything else. I was afraid that what my brother had said was true, and I didn't want to lose him without knowing the end result of love and attraction. I wanted to know; I needed to know. He turned me down, he said it wouldn't be the right thing to do, he thought he might not come back, just like I was. He didn't want to be with me and not be there for me if I got pregnant. I'm glad one of us was making sense, but I was really disappointed.
We went back to Fort Washington the last day he was in the states. The next day he would be gone.
Thousands of miles away. I was reticent that day; I was dreading the goodbye. When he took me home, we walked upstairs, and I started crying, not just crying but that body racking, sobbing, shaking, boohooing horrible out of control wailing. He pulled me back behind the wall so my mom couldn't see us. It was horrible, and I know everyone in the building heard me. Nothing he said made me stop crying. He opened the door for me and kissed me goodbye, told me he loved me, and walked down the stairs. I stood in the living room and continued to cry. Even my mom felt bad for me; she brought me tissues. I just stood there and cried and cried. I don't know how much time passed, a while for sure. I heard David outside, calling my name. He had come back. He was standing beneath my balcony, like Romeo. And he was telling me and a city block of Southview exactly how he felt about me, in front of my mom. And he was loud, well he had to be because I was crying even louder. The last thing he said was that he would be back, and he gave the date, and on that date, I better be standing on the balcony waiting for him because he loved me and we would be getting married on that day. He told me to be ready to leave. Then he said, "I love you, Red.", and turned and left. I can see that scene perfectly even today. It's a good memory.
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