Untitled #2

I wandered downstairs naked. We were both naked. The only light emanated from the full moon floating amongst the thin clouds. They looked so light… free and unadorned. The air felt cool against my skin, the marble floors icy. A nice reprieve from the heat of the stuffy bedroom.

I was always too hot. You clung to me like I could save your life, and, in some ways, I think I had. I always moved away as soon as your breath slowed to an even, relaxed pace, stirring ever so slightly as I wriggled away putting a stuffed animal into your arms. I lie awake at night these days, thinking about the way your lips would curl as you smiled your sweet smile. Love you baby, you’d say turning and clutching the doll I left in my stead. Always a peaceful sleeper.

You touched me. I moved away. Looking out the window, I saw your sleepy eyes reflecting in the glass, imploring and large. I stared at your supple, young body. Perky, petite. How young we were back then. In love and so close.

I don’t recall when I knew. Not just a gut feeling, but a deep sadness in my belly, heavy and unforgiving. Twisting and gnawing inside like a beast lashing out from the darkness, poised to hit you where it hurt.

How young we were. When we loved, we loved. Full and raw, intense and connected, as one. Until, we weren’t. Funny how that is. Scary, too.

I told you I’d come back to bed and that you should go back to sleep. You hugged me from behind. You told me I would catch cold. I could feel your breasts pressing against the small of back. So young, petite. You reached for my penis and held it in your hand. I told you to go back again with a soft voice, almost a whisper. You moved away and walked slowly up the stairs. I could feel your eyes on me… or…, maybe that’s just what I wanted to think.

I stood by the window for some time, watching the moon inching across the sky. Everything and nothing in my mind the entire time.

You were asleep, pillows and sheets still moist. I held you close and nestled my arm under you, wrapping you tight in my embrace. You shivered as I sought your warmth.

You reached again for my penis, clutching it. I let you and allowed myself to sink farther in. Sleep weighed my eyelids shut, casting me to a rare dreamless sleep, unharmed and in love.

Ivona Jezierska - Chess Master

Hi Ivona (or Ms. Jezierska, as I used to say and be extremely smug that I, little old sixth grade me, could pronounce your last name correctly),

I'm not sure if you remember me. You must have had so many students over the years since I had last seen you.

Regardless of whether or not you recall me, I just wanted to say that I sure as hell remember you. If you didn't know, you were an important person in my life. I learned a lot from you; things I still think about to this day.

1) You made an impact on my life.
I have very vivid memories of playing chess and learning from you. It was something I liked quite a lot (not just for the chessmen cookies you so graciously and liberally provided during lessons). I still recall going to some house (I think it was on Hilgard Ave in Westwood) for a lesson. You showed me the windmill tactic. And... it blew my young mind. I still think about that moment and what it felt like to truly enjoy learning because you like something. I find that particularly useful these days.

2) You taught me why we lose.
My mom never fails to remind me about how I hated to lose at Chess (and in general really). It was the like something snapped inside the pit of my stomach. Putting in all that mental effort and focus only to see something too late. Cheeks immediately flushed and heart pumping outside my chest. Not a pleasant experience. However, despite my anger and frustration, I do remember how I felt going over the lost matches with you, learning from my mistakes... I felt relaxed and comforted, deep in my pit of my belly. In fact, it's a very special feeling to me. Something that I hold dear and quite honestly, reminds me of my late grandmother. In retrospect, you were (and I'm sure still are) wonderful with children and a fantastic teacher.

Anyways, I looked you up because I wanted to tell you these things and say thank you. Better late than never.

An excerpt from an email I sent.