Poignant Moments
I've had my share of these, those moments I've burned into my memory so that I will never forget them. Some of these surprised me with their intensity when they occurred, others are ones I've replayed so often that they've been elevated above most of things I remember. All of them, in their own unique ways, are incidents I hope to carry to my grave and which I recoil from or embrace with fondness, depending.
The look of love in my ex's eyes the day I fell for her. I knew at once I'd never seen such a look before and doubt I ever will again.
Holding onto a twelve year old junkie, who cried with hope that she could leave the streets and have a life worth living.
Staring down the barrel of a gun when I was help up while working at one of the liquor stores.
The shame of dirtying my pants when I was around eight.
The laughter of the woman who discovered I was wholly inadequate.
The mix of bliss and guilt after realizing I'd stolen a kiss I hadn't planned.
The paralyzing fear of lockup in a downtown holding cell.
The joy of shopping in Courmaieur, the thrill of gambling in Monte Carlo.
Kissing my wife at the conclusion of the wedding ceremony.
The outrage I felt when one girlfriend and I suffered discrimination.
The joy of passing an interview and being found employable.
The hollowness of sitting all night in a bath of cold water during a heat wave, drinking vodka and reading.
The fear of meeting my landlord after the apt I rented was hit by a car.
The freedom I felt driving through the snowy scenery of western Colorado in a convertible with the top down.
The satisfaction I felt when I first got OS/2 to boot, or DOS, or FreeBSD, or any Linux.
The sense of wonder whenever a picture would develop in the darkroom.
The shame of missing a last visit with a dying friend, worsened when I skipped the funeral.
The gut-wrenching news that another friend had hanged himself, or shot himself.
The shameless sense of accomplishment I felt when I bedded a friend's younger sister, who was being pursued by another friend.
The pride I felt when I was selected as a Best Man.
The idiocy I felt when I realized, hours later, that Geri wanted me to kiss her.
Driving to work with a coffee cup of gin.
The pride I felt walking my niece down the aisle to give her away.
The shame of being arrested on my sister's front yard, in front of her and her girls.
Walking home after hiding my crashed car so my parents wouldn't see it and have it ruin their vacation.
The incredible sense of accomplishment when I finished Brad's story, my first NaNovel.
The lurch of despair I felt when I recognized the complete futility of a hope.
The embarrassment of being caught playing doctor. Literally playing doctor.
The pride I felt after getting my first real kiss.
Bested only by the pride I felt driving through Jack in the Box after losing my virginity.
The horror of being caught by her brother with a girlfriend in their parent's bed.
An old girlfriend, when we met six years after breaking up, when she said “please.”
The pride when a writing instructor shared one of my stories with the class.
The shame of going to Junior College when all my friends could afford real college.
The terror of seeing a police car in the rear view mirror.
How crestfallen I felt after that bright staff member asked a question, not about how much I knew about computers, but how I managed to lace my shoes in straight lines instead of crosses.
The immense shame I feel whenever I think of all the lives I've splintered.
The bitter realization that our chats were nothing but three hours of foreplay for her boyfriend's benefit.
How wonderful I felt when she came back, months later, to apologize.
The simple pride of eating delicious bread I grilled on a hotplate on the floor of my apt.
When she walked out of the apt she shared with her boyfriend to admire my sweaty back after I bicycled home.
The completeness I felt with my wife, with most women.
Seeing the sunrise in the Sierras and the sun set countless times into the Pacific.
The peacefullness of being alone in an evening filled with the croaking of a million frogs.
Holding Wooster while he died.
The elation every time a woman I want says yes to wanting me, too.
The pride I felt when she confided in me about sleeping with Terry.
Seeing that she wanted me to kiss her, even though she denied it and we didn't.