For the next few weeks, Staci
and I were inseparable. She broke up with Dylan shortly after we’d had
our first "date." Dylan, for his part, left town the first week of June
to live with a sister and brother-in-law in Wichita Falls, where he
job at his
brother-in-law's auto shop. Nobody knew if he was coming
back to school or not, least of all Staci. I took advantage of his
absence and spent my time doing my best to cause her to get over him.
went to movies, ball games, had picnics in the park, went swimming;
pretty much spent all our free time with each other.
I had fallen hard for her. I
thought everything about her was perfect. Being with her was like being
on a drug; being away from her made me almost literally hurt.
She seemed to like me a lot,
too. We were both always aware of a certain power differential, and
as hard as I tried--as hard as we both
tried--the age difference at that critical
time-period in our teen lives threw an unpredictable and
difficult-to-navigate complication into our relationship. I worked at
ignoring it, and tried to take the role of the dominant partner in the
relationship, but it was pretty clear to both of us, at least
subconsciously: I was the "younger guy" who was almost entrapped. I
idolized her and idealized her, found myself unable to look at her
rationally and neutrally. I adored her, and was lost in that adoration.
Still, the mutual attraction was undeniable; she seemed to want to be
with me as much as I wanted to be with her.
Our physical relationship had
progressed pretty rapidly. In hindsight, I understand all too well what
was going on: you can avoid issues in a relationship if you're spending
your time making out. But at the time I was caught up in my first
love, and not
remotely interested in serious and sober thinking on the subject. In
any case, by the time we'd been "together" two weeks, we were going at
pretty heavy, just about every time we went out. From
Staci I learned how to French kiss a girl really well; I learned where
to touch, and when, and how; I learned how to be patient and slow; and
I began to understand how different, yet equally intense, girls'
The increasing intensity of
our relationship was coinciding with an impending beach trip
that our church youth group was taking in mid-June. I'd been thinking
about it ever since I'd begun seeing her, and I'd decided that I was
going to find a way to get some time away from chaperones on this trip,
and take Staci off to a quiet section of beach and make love to her.
Thinking about this excited and scared me at the same time. It also
caused me to walk around with a chronic hard-on.
Throughout the whole period of
my relationship with Staci, Matt was both excited for me and somewhat
jealous. We double-dated a few times that month. After one of those, a
movie-and-Coke date, Matt was spending the night at my house. He was
sitting at my
desk and looking through a stack of CDs, talking with me about
the evening, when he said, "Man, Phillips, I can't believe you're
friggin' makin' out with Staci Hamilton! Since when are you the big
I leered at him, tugged at
my waistband and said, "Hell, Matt, since forever, or do I have to show
"Big deal, freak," he
responded. "Anyway, it's not the size of the equipment that counts,
it's all about how you use it...and I know for a fact the only use that
big boy's gettin' is from your right hand."
"Shows how much you know," I
said, raising an eyebrow, as if I had a revelation for him I hadn't yet
shared with him.
I paused and waited for his
eyes to get wide with anticipation; then I winked and said, "Sometimes
my left hand does the honors."
Matt laughed explosively,
which would have been cool, except for the fact that he had a mouthful
of Pepsi. My wall got a good spray as it came out Matt's mouth and
nose. "Look what you did, asshole!" I yelled...but the sight of it was
too funny. Pretty soon I was laughing too.
Matt stood up and pulled the
chair away from the desk. I went to the kitchen, got some paper towels,
and cleaned the Pepsi off my wall, then looked at him and said, "Dude:
I may be spending the first half of the summer with blue balls and
jerkin' off, but on this beach trip that's gonna change, I'll tell you
"Ooh, he can talk the talk,"
he quipped. "Let's see you walk the walk. Hell, I'll betcha when it
comes down to it, I lose my virginity before you do. Staci's never
gonna put out for a punk like you."
"And I suppose Lauren's gonna
give it up for you any time soon?" Lauren was Matt's current love
"Tell ya what, Phillips, if
you score before I do, I'll do your outside chores for a month."
I stuck my little finger out
and Matt hooked his own with mine in the classic "pinky-swear" move.
"Dude...you are so on. I'm talking mowing, edging, weeding the beds,
and keeping the fuckin' pool clean."
"Never gonna happen, but it's
a deal anyway," Matt said confidently. "But we gotta stipulate the
other scenario, since that's how it's really gonna play out."
"Yeah, whatever. We'll lay out
an imaginary alternate scene if it'll make you happy."
He thought for a minute.
"Okay...this alternate, non-imaginary scene has you doin' the same at
my house...but since we don't have a pool, you have to...let's
you also have to do my laundry for six
weeks. Just my sports stuff, though; I'll make it easy on you."
"Shit, Matt, your mom does all
your laundry anyway," I protested.
He said, "So? This ain't about
making my load lighter; it's about making you pay."
I shrugged. "Hell, fine by me
since it ain't gonna happen. Except I'm not doin' your jocks, not even
in this fantasy scenario of yours."
"Yeah, you are," he shot back,
grinning, "and if you give me lip, I'm gonna make you wear 'em on
I wrinkled up my nose and
He laughed. "You know
you want it, Phillips...I had you pegged as a jock-sniffer even back
when we were in third grade!"
I knew this game. We'd spent
years perfecting it. "You didn't even know
what a jock was in third
grade. Hell, you didn't even have enough down
there to put into one until last week!"
He slide-tackled me, dropped
me to the carpet, and sat on my chest.
"Say what you want, Andy," he
said with an evil grin. "By the end of June, you're gonna be doin' my
laundry and sniffin' my jock."
"Yeah, you keep that wishful
thinking goin', boy. I'm gonna come home from that trip a man and
you'll still be trying to figure out where to put it."
He stood up, extended me a
hand, and pulled me up off the floor. "All right, enough of this
horseshit...let's just see what happens." We were both smiling big at
the thought of losing our respective virginities, and we were
both dead-set on it.
The day came and about
us, plus eight adult chaperones, headed off for the beach. It was a
good retreat, and believe it or not, I actually got something out of
the "religious" stuff we did. But I was a typical fourteen-year-old
believed in practicing my faith in moderation. My true energies and
allegiances were focused on my libido. And I had every intention of
taking it the rest of the way with Staci.
One of the gas stations not
too far from my house had a condom dispenser in the men's restroom. I'd
left the house one afternoon about a week before our trip, telling my
mom I was on a distance run to start getting conditioned for soccer
season. I ran to the station, went into the restroom, and bought three
condoms. I had no idea whether I really needed that many, but I figured
buying only one would be asking for trouble, and buying more than three
was either too optimistic or too bulky to keep in a wallet.
I brought those three condoms
with me on the trip. I kept one in my wallet and two in my
toiletries bag. My roommate on the trip, another new-to-high-school kid
like me named Corey, was in the bathroom one morning brushing his teeth
as I got out of the shower, and his eyes fell on the condoms in my
toiletries kit. He looked at me, looked at the condoms, looked back at
me, and said, in a none-too-soft voice, "What the hell are those doing
in your stuff? Did...are you...is..."
I put my hand over his mouth
and said, "Shhhhhh.....shut the fuck up, dude." There were five of us
in the condo, including our adult chaperone, and I didn't want to
announce this to the whole group. I whispered, "You know what they're
for, and as for your other question, well, yeah...Friday night, on the
beach, after everybody's gone to bed. But you didn't see this and you
don't know anything."
"Okay, dude. Wow. Okay."
"I mean it, Corey, you can't
tell anybody about this or Staci and I are fucked, and then I'll have
to come pound your face."
He nodded. "Don't worry about
me, dude. Man...Staci Hamilton! How did you do that? And ain't ya
scared of Dylan?"
"Fuck Dylan, dude, he's gone,"
I said, shrugging. "Who knows if he's coming back, and anyway, she
dumped him. He's probably out screwin' every 'ho' in Wichita Falls.
He's old news."
"But how are y'all gonna get
the time away from chaperones and stuff?"
I looked at him, grinned, and
said, "I'm glad you asked; you can do me a little favor, Corey...."
I'd arranged to meet Staci
just down from the condo's boardwalk at 2 AM our last night
there. I trusted her to figure out a way to sneak out like I did.
Lights-out was at midnight in our group; by two, everybody in the
was asleep. If a condo unit had reasonably quiet kids, the chaperone
would go to sleep and everyone was more or less on the honor system to
stay in. And almost everybody did. But Staci and I had our minds on
I'd gotten an agreement from
Corey to cover for me in case a chaperone stuck his head in and found
missing. I had him leave the bathroom light on and the bathroom door
shut, and he was to tell the chaperone I was in the bathroom. It was a
pretty lame plan, but I figured if that didn't work when I got back I'd
tell our chaperone I couldn't sleep and had been sitting in the condo's
lobby watching TV for a bit. I'd get into a little hot water for it,
but less than if they'd found out what I was really doing. When the
beeper went off at 1:50 AM on my wristwatch, I got up and dressed, and
shook Corey gently by the shoulder to wake him up. He opened up his
and looked at me; I whispered, "I'm outta here, dude. I'll be back in
an hour. Watch my back, okay?" He smiled and gave me a "thumbs up,"
then put his head back on his pillow. I grabbed some stuff, sneaked out
front door, and headed toward the beach.
We probably shouldn't have
been on the beach by ourselves at two in the morning. Still, this
of beach was private and was used primarily by people staying at the
and at this time of day it was completely deserted.
I'd originally thought it
would be cool to have a late swim with her, but I knew enough of the
ocean to realize that putting the two of us in such a situation would
be dangerous to the point of stupidity. So we'd decided not to come out
in swimwear. I went shirtless and in soccer sandals, wearing a pair of
white soccer shorts with blue trim and free-balling it underneath that.
In the pocket of those shorts were my three condoms.
I had brought along two beach
towels, two pillows, and a light comforter for us to lie down on so
we'd keep the sand at a minimum. The sea air was warm but breezy. With
the sun down and the wind blowing, we could even wrap up in the
comforter if we wanted.
As I sat my gear down in the
sand, Staci showed up. She had on a pair of khaki shorts and a white
cotton top. Her face was a little ruddy from a week of too much sun,
looked beautiful for all that. Seeing her got me a little nervous and
set my dick at full attention. I'm
so much in love with her, I thought
to myself; and tonight, with any
luck, I'll be making love to her.
"Hi," Staci said.
"Did you have any trouble
getting out?" I asked.
"Nope. Amy's gonna tell them I
couldn't sleep and went down to watch TV if anyone asks."
I winced and said, "Shit,
let's hope no one asks, because there'll be hell to pay. That's what
Corey's saying too."
She giggled. My heart melted
down even further.
"I brought some stuff for us
to keep the sand off us and just watch the stars...or whatever," I said
Staci looked at me and smiled
faintly. We hadn't spoken about it, but I think she knew just as well
as I did what this little date on the beach was all about. I took her
hand and said, "Let's just walk along the beach for a little bit, okay?"
"I'd love that. It's so
beautiful out here, Andy. Look at how the moon shines down on the
ocean. Isn't that incredible?"
Oh, god, Staci, you're
incredible, I wanted to say. But I just looked at her, smiled, and
nodded my head.
We walked along the beach,
holding hands, making small talk, sometimes not talking at all. After
about fifteen minutes, we reversed direction and headed back.
About fifty yards from our
original starting-point, I stopped walking and turned to face her. I
up my courage and said, "Staci...I think I'm in love with you."
She put her arms around me and
pulled me in close to her. I bent down to kiss her. We stood there
kissing for several minutes under the moonlight as the waves washed up
against the shore over and over.
Our mutual need was
intensifying as we kissed. Pretty soon it was impossible to hide my
state of arousal. I tried to pull back my hips and move away from her,
because I didn't want to seem over-eager, but as I did, she moved her
hands to my ass and pulled me in tight against her. I groaned in pain
and ecstasy and began grinding gently against her. My breathing became
ragged and heavy and hers was getting faster too, as we stood there
tongue-kissing and thrusting against each other.
I couldn't take it any longer.
I said, "Staci, you're so beautiful and I'm wantin' you so bad. I...I
brought some...some protection. I want to make love to you. I know
you're not...I mean, you've done this before. But I
haven't, and I...I want you to be the one I..."
Before I could stammer it out,
she pulled me to her and kissed me deeply one more time...then she slid
her hand down the outside of my pants and caressed my aching dick. I
inhaled sharply, and she took her hand away and put it in mine, saying,
"I'm ready too. It's right this time. I want you to, Andy."
We walked back to the dune
where I'd left the towels and pillows and comforter. I spread them out
and then stood up, facing her. I looked into her eyes, kissed her one
more time, and, hands shaking a little, pulled her top over her head.
She unhooked her bra and I slid it off her. We embraced and held each
other chest-to-chest. Then she reached down to my waistband and I
reached over to hers. I gently unbuttoned and lowered her khakis. She
slid her panties down and stood before me naked; then she got down on
her knees and slid my soccer shorts down around my ankles. My dick,
freed suddenly from its confines, slapped up against my belly, then
stood at hard attention. She stood back up; I stepped out of my shorts
and we stood before each other naked.
"You're so beautiful," I
"So are you, Andy," she said.
"Are you sure you want to do
this?" I asked.
In answer, she grabbed me
around the waist, pulled me close to her and began kissing me. As we
kissed, she moved her hands to my ass again and began caressing me and
pulling me harder against her.
I was leaking all over her and
I was afraid if we didn't stop, I'd finish before we started. I kneeled
down with her and eased her onto her back on top of the comforter. I
kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts.
Then I got up for a minute and grabbed one of the condoms out of my
I tore open the packaging and
unrolled it onto my straining dick. Then I lay down beside her. I took
one of her hands, and moved it to my penis. She ran her fingers through
my pubes and
caressed my balls. Occasionally she let a finger run up and down the
length of my cock. Even though it was covered in a layer of latex, I
shuddered at the sensation.
We kissed and made out some
more. The silky smoothness of her naked body was
overpowering. My right hand made its way
toward her waist and below. I reached my destination and slowly
inserted a finger into her. I was on fire with need for her, and a
little nervous; I'd never ever done this before.
She was warm and wet, and the
sensation made my dick even more impatient. I spent some time
stimulating her with my hand, getting familiar with her body as I never
had with any other girl before, eliciting moans of pleasure out of her.
Finally I kissed her once more, then positioned myself over her,
continuing to kiss her gently, while my
right hand guided my dick into position. My condom was lubricated, and
between that and her own wetness, we were ready. I brought my dick
up to her opening with my hand, and thrust gently with my hips, pushing
slightly into her. She winced just a little. I said, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she replied, kissing
me. "Go ahead." I pushed a little more in and she seemed to open up
more easily to take the rest of me. I eased in slowly and carefully
until finally I was in all the way.
It was all I could do to hold
off an instant orgasm. Never in my most intense wet dreams had I had
such a physical sensation. I felt this incredible velvety softness
inside her; but it was firm, and it gripped and stroked me. I couldn't
tell whether I wanted to cry from the sheer mind-unhinging ecstasy of
the sensation, or growl like an animal in heat.
She'd been moaning softly. Now
that I was in, she hugged me tightly to her and sighed. "It feels nice,
Andy," she said.
I could hardly speak, I was so
overpowered by the physical sensations and the tidal wave of emotion
that had caught me. "Staci, you feel so good," I said. "I
didn't know it would be like this."
I began thrusting slowly in
and out. Pretty soon we had a good rhythm going. Gradually, sweet talk
was replaced by moans and sighs as the pace picked up.
As I was making love to her, I
started worrying about being able to give Staci an orgasm. Do girls get
off easily? What should I do? This isn't all just about me, I was
thinking; I want to make her feel the same intensity I'm feeling. I
thought about where orgasms came from in girls. Although I was a rank
beginner in making love, I had a pretty good understanding of what I
needed to do.
To make sure I knew what was
where, I put my hand down where the action was, and as I was fucking
her, I felt her with my finger until I found what I thought was her
clit. I stroked it gently, and sure enough, she tightened up and gasped
a little. I moved my finger away and decided to try increasing the
pressure against her clit with the top side of my penis as I was
thrusting. She responded as I'd hoped: she began gasping lightly and
lifting her torso up slightly to meet me with each thrust. She grabbed
my ass with her hands again and pulled me into her, over and over, as
if she were trying to get me deeper into her and harder against her.
The pace kept increasing until I felt her tensing up. I didn't have any
sexual experience to speak of, but I could tell she was about to get
there. Pretty soon I felt her clamp around my dick a little tighter as
she cried out in climax. I kept pumping away; the excitement of Staci's
orgasm got me closer myself, until, about a minute later, I thrust deep
into her and exploded my juice into the condom.
I rolled us onto our sides and
we lay there, kissing and caressing, my dick still inside her. Finally,
awkwardly, I pulled out. As I was doing that, I felt the condom
beginning to slip off, and I quickly grabbed it at the base and clamped
down on it and my penis, making sure the condom stayed on until I was
safely out of her. Then I pulled it off and tied it in a knot to keep
the fluid inside. I looked at it, kind of grossed out, thinking, "What
the fuck do I do with it now?" Was there a dignified way to deal with
the mechanics of after-sex? If there was, I sure didn't know what it
was. She saw my facial expression and giggled. I was embarrassed, but
then started laughing at the absurdity of the situation. We lay
back and watched the stars, listening to the tide, talking softly,
laughing occasionally, whispering about our feelings for each other and
caressing each other.
Eventually--much too soon--she
turned to me and said, "We better get back before somebody finds out."
"Yeah, I guess so," I sighed.
We dressed ourselves; I rolled up the gear I'd brought and wadded the
tied-up condom inside my right fist. When we got to the end of the
boardwalk closest to the condo, I saw a large trash barrel and I threw
the condom into it, rolling my eyes, which set us off laughing again.
We made it back to our condos
without anyone the wiser, although Amy was waiting up for Staci and
apparently peppered her with questions. To this day I have no idea what
she told Amy; I hope that, whatever she said, making love with me was
as deep and singular an experience for her as it was for me.
The week at the beach came to
a close. We loaded up the vans and made the trip back to Dallas.
Back home, Matt had a report
to give and a report to receive. The first thing out of his mouth
when we saw each other again was "You better have gotten lucky,
Phillips, or you got some jock to sniff."
"Hey, I always deliver," I
replied, grinning broadly.
Matt seemed genuinely
delighted. "You did? For real? Awesome, bro! Me too!"
I looked at him a little
incredulously. "Are you sure you're not tryin' to get out of a month of
"Honest, Andy, mission
accomplished! So, it looks like a photo finish, dude; we gotta find out
who went first. When did you score?"
I looked at him, realizing I'd
"scored" at the last possible moment, which meant I'd probably have
lost the bet. "Friday night, man...well, actually, early Saturday
morning," I sighed.
Matt started laughing. "Me
too, bro. Let's just call it a draw and go celebrate."
I gave him a high-five and we
"celebrated" over some one-on-one hoops. Afterwards we sat out on
the grass and traded the details of our weekend with each other.
Once again, even in the matter of losing our virginities, we were in
lockstep. As we sat there talking, that thought kept coming back
In an ideal world I'd be able
to tell you that things turned out happily ever after for me and Staci.
But I was only fourteen, and anyway, I don't know anyone who's ever
inhabited an ideal world. I certainly didn't that summer.
Staci and I continued to see
each other and talk on the phone for about a week after we got home,
but somehow things didn't seem quite the same. I'd thought that our
experience on the beach would bring us even closer. But that wasn't
One afternoon while I was
shooting baskets, I saw her car pull up. She came over to me. I kissed
her and she gave me a perfunctory kiss back, then said, "Can we go up
to your room and talk?"
When we got there, she looked
at me, then at the floor, and said, "Andy...Dylan's back in town. He's
really sorry for the way he treated me and he wants to get back
Clueless, I said, "Oh, man,
has he been harassing you? Don't worry about it. I'll go pay
Dylan a little visit and tell him to shove it and to stay away from
She looked at me, eyes
radiating discomfort, and stumbled through her next words. "I...I
don't know how to say this, but I'm really in love with him. I guess I
always have been. And he says he loves me."
The breath left my lungs. I
was literally stunned. The room seemed to darken for a second. I must
have been speechless for an entire minute while I tried to recover.
Finally, I said, "Shit, Staci,
I love you too. And I know you love me. That guy's an asshole. You told
me so yourself."
"I do love you," she
said. "You're so good to me, and it makes me feel so special to know
how you feel about me. But you're two years younger than I am,
and...well, I know we've both been feeling kinda weird about that."
I frowned. I couldn't disagree.
"Anyway," she went on,
"Dylan's not as bad as everyone thinks. He's really a sensitive, loving
guy. He's just had some tough breaks. He's promised me he's gonna
change. And I guess...I guess there's a part of me that never got over
"Fuck that, Staci," I said.
"He's gonna hurt you again, and
you're throwing this away...throwing us
away...for someone who's gonna
treat you like dirt."
"Andy, there is no 'us,'
sweet," she said in response. "You said yourself when we just started
seeing each other that we had this summer. And that's what we had. This
summer. A beautiful, wonderful summer dream. The beach...I'll remember
that forever. But school starts in five weeks. You need to go back to
your life and your friends, and I need to go back to mine. I'm always
going to love you, Andy, and I want us to be friends. But I'm in love
with Dylan, and I think I was meant to be with him."
"Staci," I began hoarsely,
looking for a way to make it untrue, a way to put things back like they
were, words to say that would change her mind. But by the time I found
some words, the reality of the situation had quickly moved into my
heart, claimed its hard ground, and refused to vacate. I sighed, and
tried to stay strong and
steady as I spoke.
"Okay. Shit! I...Okay.
There's nothing I can do. God, Staci, I love you and this really hurts.
I mean, I had no idea. We talked just last night, and I..." I
took a few deep breaths and struggled to keep from getting too
whatever. It doesn't matter, I guess." I looked intently into the eyes
of this girl I'd lost myself so badly to. "Listen to me. I think
you're gonna get hurt again. And I don't care about the age thing: I'm
so much better for you than he is. If you don't want to be with me,
that's one thing. But Dylan! Don't do it to yourself."
She stared back at me,
silently, and finally replied quietly, "You don't know him, Andy. It'll
I'd had all that I could
handle. I just needed her to leave and let me hurt off by myself, with
some dignity still intact. Defeated, I looked at her and said, "Well,
if that's the way it is, that's the way it is."
"Let's still be friends,
though...please. I don't want you to hate me," she said, a note of
desperation in her voice.
"Friends? Staci, I can't do
that," I said. "Look; I won't hate you. I couldn't hate you. Jesus,
you're the only girl I ever made love to. But being friends with you,
that's too much to ask. I'm in love with you. Don't you understand what
that would do to me?"
A few tears started falling
from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry. I never ever wanted to hurt you," she said,
crying, as she tried to hug me.
I pulled away and said, "Look,
I don't want to be mean, but would you just go, please? You did
what you came to do. You need to go now."
She looked at me in misery,
and seemed about to say something else. Then she put her hand on my
shoulder for a minute, kissed me on the cheek, and turned away without
I watched her walk out the
door, and through my window I watched her walk to her car. As she
walked I could tell she was crying softly. Why the fuck is she crying,
I thought bitterly. After she drove away, I stared blankly out the
window for twenty minutes, trying not to think, not to feel.
About half an hour after she
left Matt came up the walk, walked into the house, and into my room. He
took one look at me, and said "Jesus, Andy. What's wrong?"
I looked at him and said, "She
dumped me, Matt. She's going back to Dylan. She just fuckin' drove over
here and sucker-punched me."
I must have looked awful,
because without another word, Matt came over and put his arms around
me. That did it. The dam burst and I cried like a little girl on Matt's
shoulder. He rubbed my back and held me and spoke softly, telling me,
"It's gonna be all right." I didn't believe him; but I was glad
he was there.
Somehow the sheer agony of
that hour gradually passed. A day went by, then two, then a week. As
the days went on, I got back into the game. I worked hard on shaking
off Staci. By the end of July or so, I was pretty much back to normal.
I gave her a wide berth after
she broke up with me. I went out of my way to avoid her at youth group
meetings and spent my time conspicuously with everyone else; with
anyone else. I had to: I'd
loved hard, so I hurt hard. But I got
better. And I was definitely one broken heart's worth wiser.
Staci's relationship with
Dylan turned pretty much in the direction I'd predicted it would.
Ultimately he developed a bad drug habit and began getting physically
abusive with her; she ended up breaking up with him again. Eventually
she graduated and went to college at a northeastern university. We
never made it back to the status of "friends," although by the time
she'd graduated the hurt had attenuated enough for me to speak
cordially to her at church and in school.
I haven't seen Staci in years.
I honestly hope she's happy. The memory of the two of us lives deep and
strong in my heart. But if the truth be known, I never fully recovered.
Do any of us in matters of the heart? Along with the beautiful
memories, there's a scar there to this day. I guess that kind of
thing often comes with the territory of a person's "first time."
When I think back on those
days, though, and allow my heart to feel the joy and pain of my first
love, I'm aware of another dynamic coloring the days and the hours. As
in all the other ups and downs of previous years of my life, I could
always count on one constant, one person--Matt--lifting me up and
dusting me off and helping me regain my balance. More and more as the
years went by, I began to feel that the two of us were separated halves
of one complete person. I don't know what that means, or how to explain
it; but I know it's true.
Copyright 2003 by Adam
Phillips. Comments are welcome. Email me at