Thursday, June 4, 1987

The graduation dance

I can't believe I never got a chance to dance with him — The One. But I danced with the other — The Friend. But then how come if he's just a friend, I had so much trouble falling asleep, and I tossed and turned. And how come I could feel his hands on my back even until after 3:00 in the morning. Why did his touch burn imprints into the flesh of my back? And why could I count all ten of his fingers by their continued warmth on me, into the wee hours? And why could I not eat breakfast the next morning? And why do I get embarrassed when he looks at me from across the room today? I feel like I'm graduating in more than one way. I'll never get back that chance, that night — but I feel like it could float away with the summer, to another far-off land, one I may not really need to visit. But maybe when I'm old, will I wonder where The Friend is?

—Terri Guillemets

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