What craziness shows up in my life over and over and over. I'm in awe. I stand back and observe how it has all unfolded (and is still unfolding) and am mesmerized by the perfection of it all.
My first love was this guy in high school. I have always questioned how much a 14-17 year old girl can really know about being in love, but now I'm questioning my questioning. Do I dare name him? Those of you who knew me back then know who it is, but by naming him it seems to make it more real, and I'm not sure I'm ready to take that leap just yet into cyberspace.
His name is Greg Driscoll. (I'm a leaper.) I was absolutely crazy about this guy, and I was just crazy. For the first time I verbally aired to an "old" high school friend I haven't seen in 25 years that he was the reason that I left Texas after graduation. Because of my need to get away from all the places that brought back memories of him, I got the heck out of Dodge at the ripe old age of 17. I thought that I had never really thought of him since. Really. I got married and stayed married for a hundred years, worked my ass off, raised a daughter, ran my own businesses, and I just don't recall him being in my thoughts. Period.
And then yesterday I picked up the manuscript of my first novel that I began about 10 years ago. The publisher's been waiting on the final edit, and for whatever reason I chose to pick it up yesterday and do my final reading. As I let the environment and the characters seep into my present day reality, I saw something else so clearly -- the main male character is Greg Driscoll. Okay, maybe not the shitty husband part because I don't know what he would be like as a husband, but the way I described him made me see my Jack character as I remembered Greg to be -- basketball player and all. Now, friends and neighbors, that has just blown me away. I've been "working" (and I use that term very, very lightly) on this manuscript for at least a decade, and I don't think I've ever thought of that before.
What else have I fooled myself about?
I also vowed in 1974 that I would never return to TX to live, and here I am.
I also said I'd never divorce, and on my 48th birthday I chose divorce.
I built my dream home, my luxuriously beautiful perfect house, in 2004 and said I would be buried there. All I can say is that it made a lovely coffin.
What morsels of information and cavernous feelings have I held back from myself all these years? I would've sworn on a stack of bibles that Greg Driscoll never entered my thoughts in all these years yet he shows up in the pages of my book. I read about Jack and I see Greg. Who did I see before?
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