Lucy Lime

You know, I've been thinking about high school lately. An old friend looked me up and brought back tons of fun times. Put me in the right frame of mind, I guess.

Anyway I tried to recall all the people I dated in high school. There was Root, Popio, Jason, Popio, Chris, Popio again, Tom, and Jesse. I think that is all. Root was the much older boyfriend who I "dated" in late middle school and it spilled into high school. Briefly. Very briefly. But he was still influential, a wonderful memory, and a really decent guy. Popio was there all the time. Not in a two-timing way, but either we were dating or hanging out as friends. While Root was my first love, Popio has always been a constant. Spectacular person, simply amazing parents, highly recommended. Jason, eh. Chris, eh. They ended things horridly. Let's skip them. We all know about Jesse. Fabulous, best human I have met, super-highly recommended, and totally, utterly taken.

Then there's Tom. Tommy. He the guy that no one expected. Think Green Day. Think Sid and Nancy. He is the guy who introduced me to music, movies, books, fashion. But he had green hair and my parents did not like the look their friends gave them whenever Tom and Bill, his ever present sidekick, came over.

For the record. He was the perfect gentleman. Opened doors for me, paid for my ticket at the movies, made sure I was safe and felt comfortable at all times, brought me flowers at work 'just because', bought me cool surprises from the shops on High Street. This guy was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. I still can't walk past Big Red or chew it without thinking of him. He would always chew it. Cinnamon smooches.

Oh, and for my parents in case they ever read this: he never tried anything. Nothing.

I remember my friends and family being shocked that I would date him. Me, a snobby stuck-up and he, a punk. I met him at Pizza Hut where we both worked. Yeah, he had green hair. Yeah, he wore t-shirts of bands no one had ever hear of. Yeah, he wore cut-off pants, at least they fit him unlike today's fashion. Yeah, he had Doc's. A piercing or two. Green spiky hair. Oh, and two tattoos. Just two, at the time. His friends were always cool with me. Always nice. My friends, not so much.

Then came Michelle. I think he heard I was dating someone else, rumor courtesy of my lovely, cliquish friends. I tried to call him one weekend and he told me he had gone water skiing with a girl, Michelle, who his father had introduced him to. Seeing how blown away I was, he told me that he heard I was out with so and so. He figured it was ok.

I think after that, he and I winded down, not sure of what to do next. But I never went out with anyone else while I was with him, I was still convincing my parents how wonderful he was. Why do all that work for nothing?

My husband reminds me of Tommy. In days gone by, he dressed the same, listened to the same music, liked the same things. I am now more similar to Tommy (and, perhaps Root) more than any other. I am definitely more similar now than I was back then.

Anyway, baggy pants, punk music, Monty Python, Big Red...... it all reminds me of Tommy.

Here's to you Tom Bommersbach. Maybe by putting his name out there I will get to reconnect with him one day and find out how things are going.

Labels: love, nostalgia