new york tendaberry

she remembers the good times. i tend to remember the sadder, more unhappy times. she remembers the bowling and the pre-thanksgiving turkey dinners, and the easy bake ovens, I remember the sitting on my stoop waiting for my mom who upon seeing me wanted to know ‘what the hell did you do wrong?” She remembers the name of all of our neighbors, I remember some, not all. I remember feeling lonely and sad and oh so friendless, for a lack of a better word. She remembers bowling and movies and laughing alot.
We were great friends growing up. she was, to me, the Angelina Jolie of the 60’s. gorgeous and sexy and had the most amazing smile and full lips and great body and could light up even the darkest room wth her smile and joy. infectious. I of course remember being skinny and gawky with frizzy hair and upper and lower braces which not only made smiling hard, it made eating brutal. I was envious of her. Being popular was not on the top of my to do list, but making it through the day was.
We hadn’t spoken in years & years. I have a book coming out. She connected to me, having seen me on facebook We’ve caught up — phone calls in the middle of the night – learning about each other, jarring each other’s memory, apologizing for some bad behavior which in hindsight was just truly all a part of growing pains.
Being in my 50’s, it sure feels nice coming home again, if for only to visit the special girl, ellyn who made me realize that having breasts was far more important & empowering in the scheme of things then ever ever having a penis. She gave great meaning to “tough titties.”

Ellyn Kline.

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