blindsided

I had one of those intense life flashback moments built for afternoon cinema on the TV today. I’d just finished eating a delicious breakfast made by my husband-to-be and started in my duty of doing the dishes. The hot water from the faucet was pouring down on my hands as I circled around-and-around the plate with the sponge. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Although I knew I should have cut the water off, I couldn’t. It kept running along with my memory and I was trapped in a flashback.

My mind had placed me back 11 years past. The clothes I wore-I could see them exactly and I could feel them against my skin. Even at this very moment I can remember the exact blend of the fabric – 65% cotton/35% linen. Not all that unusual for someone who spent their after-school hours around other people’s dirty laundry. My blouse was a sleeveless button up with a collar and white. My bottoms were typically khaki colored skirts, shorts and sometimes pants. This was my uniform at the dry cleaners, my first real job ever during high school.

He was a clean-cut gentleman, twelve years my senior and a patron at my job. He might have been in a time or two before the day he dropped off his business slacks for cleaning and politely asked if we could exchange contact information. A bit shocked, I inquired whether he knew my age or thought differently about my youthful appearance? What was his angle? Where was he going or did he want to go? Did he not know I had a boyfriend at my high school who I was insanely in love with?

My hands were starting to turn into fleshy, shriveled, human raisins, signaling it was time to cut off the running water I’d been wasting and snap-to. Still, I was there in the memory. Then I thought that if I could return to the past how I’d like to go in his shoes. And forgive me if this sounds a bit narcissistic, but I’d want to meet myself fully dressed and ready to dry clean your clothes-his clothes. I’d like to see his perspective of me.

Never ever did I think he’d be the one I would be marrying soon. Did I not mention how madly and wild I was for my teenage love? Did I ever see it coming? Could I have imagined or dreamed it? No.

Does it feel good? Yes.