His name popped into my head. Len Callahan. Our leisurely secret lunches at the Bookstore Cafe downtown. No more than that and maybe a phone conversation. Did I call him? Where did I even meet him. What fun flirting we had though. Him married far too young; I think. Me in my gorgeous ferocious hormonal prime. What would he be like now?
White Pages Anyone?
In twenty minutes, I know where he lives. He’s three years older than me, 60 years old. And of Course he’s a Virgo. That would have had me very enrapt. I even have access to a phone number or two. Like I’m going to call him up and say,
“Hi, this is Shalagh, is this Len? Do you remember me? Where did we meet? How’s your life going? till with that basket weaving wife?”
What in the world is going on with my brain!?
Stalker’s Are Us
Online, I can even see his neighbors’ addresses. Is this what con people look for to set you up as a mark? Sit in cars outside houses stalking people. Why would I suddenly be pondering any of this? We’re both married. Him in a Million-dollar house in the countryside. Me on a river on a river.
I Want to Remember ME
He’s in my brain because I want to remember what it was like to be young, beautiful, and desirable. I want to remember what it was like to be adored and lusted after. Remember how I felt to be in that body that contained so much energy and power, to want and be wanted.
Ferocious beautiful me. Was I the working-class girl who he met in a bar where I worked? I think I was. I remember now. It was Fat Lulu’s. I served him and his friends a lot of drinks as they escaped from their work worlds for a three-hour lunch. Len was more subdued. He had sandy hair and a big strong build. And for feck’s sake, he had an Irish name. There was something I wanted to see; perhaps myself in his eyes and voice that made me feel better about myself than the man I was with at the time?
Why?
Why was I seeing him? Maybe he was going to save me, the damsel in distress? Maybe I wanted to be worth saving? At least be worthy of being considered for a mistress? Or perhaps I just needed someone to fantasize about? Maybe I still do. Now, I just want to be wanted again. Or maybe If I remind myself of who I used to be, I can rise to meet and love her beautiful ferociousness once again and forever onward.
Whatever this/he was once to me, I also have an immense respect for the woman he wed who gave him children and a home. His life was his life to live and mine was mine. Perhaps he once even cheated on her and she took him back. They may have lost a child together and begun a foundation in their name. That is his story not mine, but I had a fun run down memory lane and no, I didn’t look him up on Facebook. Ok but I didn’t find him. Does that count?
If you have any thoughts, please drop a word below in the comments. Or
Find and friend me on Instagram to view my daily pictures and art projects.
Find and Facebook friend me.
If you are interested in reading more of my thoughts on Creative Soul Living, place your name into the subscription box in the sidebar on the right and subscribe to my weekly posts delivered straight to your inbox.
And as always, thank you for your visit.
