Looking up my Past

 I am thinking today about Warren Farrington, my crush in second grade.  I carried his books home for him, and that is about as far as it went.  I knew he was red haired, like my brother, and that he tolerated my book carrying for his own selfish reasons.  He was amiable, and I was, at the time, very outgoing.  It worked.  About as much as anything can at that tender age.

I knew then that I was heterosexual.  I have been ever since, and nothing has really disturbed that sense of direction.  I’ve been attracted to women, but each time it was because thy were more masculine that most males.  So, I didn’t bother to tear them apart.  I never wanted a woman in sheep’s clothing.

After than first taste of Warren, I graduated to my friends’ Sweethearts.  Usually, they were out of my league, but I wasn’t really concerned.  But then, in Jr. High, I fell for my first real boyfriend, who died right after we’d gone to the Christmas dance together.  The next real safe, boyfriend was Garnet Ryland III.  We were deeply in love, and I’ll talk about him later.  For now, let’s bask in Warren, because we can, and not harm a soul.  I still had quite a bit of feistiness in me, at that time, and hadn’t been ruined by men who didn’t really get me or care for me either.  Carrying Warren’s books was fun and safe.  If people laughed at me, I really didn’t care.  I was in on the joke.  Later I would not be.

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