We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us


Rico picked up the new Alanis CD yesterday and was playing it in the car. "Hands Clean" clicked on and haunted me for a couple of reasons. The first was because I was sure I'd heard it before (now I'm positive). The second was because the relationship described in the song was the first relationship I ever had.

I don't really have any intention of explaining how it started, but suffice to say we started talking in the summer of '92. We started mostly as friends. We had the same last name. I said something once that made her fall for me, which in turn made me fall for her. We made love for the first time on a Wednesday that August and it was...almost exactly how I'd dreamed it would be. I was oddly confident and there was no sort of performance problem...except it seemed to take forever for me to achieve orgasm. As a whole it wasn't necessarily perfect (though it would be later), but we were significantly impressed with each other at the time. I shuddered for a couple days afterward whenever I thought about it.

She was thirty five, an LA Raider's fan, and liked the Gun's & Roses "Use Your Illusion" albums. I sang "Don't Cry" to her over the phone, a capella, from memory (I hadn't gotten it yet). We bought each other Dada's "Dizz Knee Land" for Christmas, completely by accident. She owned horses and rode English, unlike everyone else in her neighbourhood, who rode Western.

I, of course, was fourteen/fifteen, as smart as I am today, but considerably less wise; or maybe the other way around. I was having countless problems with my appearance and generally looked like an idiot most of the time.

I hated being away from her the week I was in New York for my uncle's funeral.

She had three kids, all younger than me; a son and two daughters. I met them once; they liked me, though I'm fairly sure they didn't know what the hell was going on. Just that I was her friend and she was happy whenever we talked.

she had a husband, of course. He had discouraged her from working through much of the marriage, though she wanted to. I prodded. She said she wanted to groom pets; I told her go for it. She started going to school for it and got a part-time job that paid under the table. It was fun for her.

He was a cop. LAPD. He hit her at least once. She told him about me. He told her about some coworker he was nailing. They settled into a kind of cold war with the occasional ugly result. Near the end, in February, they filed for divorce. I think he moved out for good once she and I were over.

I made a lot of mistakes, of course, but what can I say? I was young. I think, though, I can at least say that I didn't wander in and just wreck havoc. I don't know where she is now, or what she's doing, but, barring the worst, I don't think I ruined her life.

And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this