 |
Lorraine and daughter Jane, summer of
1982, seven months after we met |
In the last segment of
hole in my heart (3/31/2017), my first love and I had parted. I was living in Saginaw, Michigan, a weeks after graduating from college, and working for a daily newspaper. Another reporter on the paper was flirting with me, finding it hard to believe I was still virginal. This picks up after first love did not show up after a night in which he asked me to marry him--now. I was uncertain, I had an apartment where no men were allowed over night, and he left shortly before three in the morning to drive back to Flint, about a 40 mile drive. He was supposed to return the next day; I waited for him all day. He did not return.
* * *
The following morning, July 5th, my virginity, such as it still remained, seems as outdated as a lorgnette, pretty to look at but impractical to use. Dashing scion continues to pursue me with the kind of charming intensity that such men possess when their goal is a reluctant cherry. I am a modern woman, right? I am hip, right? It is 1964! Even though all I knew about birth control could fit in a thimble, I am hardly the good Catholic who once believed in mortal sin, or someone who would reveal this transgression in a confessional. If I went to Confession.
