nccotus

so, someone here discerned that, in the wake of the lesion being removed from the side of my nose, 4 1/2 years ago, my significant problem is the injury to my clitoris sustained three times.

first, I was kneed in the crotch By my brother at about age 5. Last, I was decimated heart mind, body, and soul, by the clamped on catheter in the ICU in ’86.

all if this has been said before.

what was never addressed was the second damage to me as a Freshman fall term semester at Harvard when an idiot who didn’t know what he was doing was trying to give me an orgasm through oral sex as I lay on the floor of the living room of the suite. He flicked my clit in a forceful way that caused a silly little thrill that I was forced to seek forever afterward. I left him laying on his back on the living room floor with his contact lenses in and went to sleep on my bunk bed. He was probably drunk. We were both probably drunk.

I was ruined for life and he knew it. My clit was already vulnerable and warranted a gentle touch.

he was forced to keep dating me after that until he was able to ditch me Junior year over an fidelity.

I remember myself alone in the double bedroom in Quincy House dormitory a weekend night after we broke up, listening to the Gogos playing in the courtyard, “Jealous Games People Play,” his favorite song. And, “Another One Bites the Dust.”

I never really got over him. I had another intense relationship that, when it ended, I was so scared it was going to be the same all over again I lost my mind and ended up at the state hospital.

I called up Mark after that or rather I called up the Alumni Association and the woman checked th a t he wasn’t m married and gave me his address and I wrote him a letter. He finally replied with a letter enclosing rose petals, but letting me know of his current love life.

Alex asked me if he needed me to address this relationship in some fashion and I didn’t know what to say. Like the roommate, Sally, he was so upclose in my mind that I wasn’t aware if his continuing presence.

I was a runaway to Harvard. I wrote my application as such. They knew that I was not mature enough to be there but did not count on the extent of it.

I turned to sex, booze, and upper crust street drugs. And caffeine. And saccharine. And dieting. Burning the candle at both ends. And wasn’t really focused on getting an education.

so, I did some brilliant computer AI work and also wrote a brilliant paper against abortion as I was on my way out. The professor said “Too bad you weren’t a philosophy major.”

I also could have been an Option C creative Writing English Major instead of a non honors track English Major and I would have c e felt a lot better about myself. Instead, I was President of the Advocate!

so I got a fancy crimson scroll rolled up in a large crimson tube and delivered to my door in Somerville after I finished my coursework during a summer session in ’84.

“It’s a wild world…Hard to get by just upon a smile…”