High school was great. I don’t know what everyone complains about. A face full of pussy zits, polar mood swings, relentless bullying, awkward social interactions, and spontaneous erections. It was all great. As an adult on his way to becoming somewhat well adjusted, I can now appreciate the chaos of those formative years. My life since has become so boring.
The best part of high school was my fantasy sweetheart. Her name was Amanda, and I met her in the Dungeons & Dragons Club. I never talked to Amanda. Heck, I never even looked at her except for when I worked up the courage for a sideways glance while she was talking to somebody else. I suppose some may view this as ridiculously shy and awkward, especially since there were only four of us in the Dungeons & Dragons Club. But I snuck enough peeks at Amanda to sear her image in my mind.
I used to sleep with two pillows. One wrapped around my head, and one between my legs. I imagined them both to be Amanda. The pillow around my head became drenched with saliva. I French kissed that pillow till I poked holes into it with my tongue and sucked all the feathers out of it. The pillow between my legs became crusty with my other love juices. Oh how I miss those pillows. I never washed them.
To this day I still haven’t spoken to Amanda, yet she walks beside me everywhere I go. I can’t imagine life without her. Whenever I have sex with someone that I’m not attracted to, I close my eyes and think of Amanda. That brings me over the edge and saves that particular sexual encounter from being a confidence draining debacle.
I have a tiny portrait picture of Amanda in my old yearbook. I’ve made copies of this picture, magnified 15 times, and smothered them with gooey kisses. The black ink smudges all over my face and I pretend that it’s lipstick. I leave the ink on my face for as long as possible, until I know that I have to meet a real live person in real life.
I found Amanda on Facebook once, but she’s become old like me. Ewwww. Her husband looks like a big fat sweaty pedophile with nerdy glasses. He’s a software engineer or something useless and boring like that. I’ve never looked her up again.
So there was this one time, a number of years back, when I was starting a new relationship in real life and things were going so well that I stopped fantasizing about Amanda. I didn’t talk to her when I was sitting on the subway train, I didn’t make fake text messages full of cute emoji, nothing. I ghosted her. That made me feel young again, since that’s what I hear young people do all the time now. Ghost each other.
The problem was, it made me feel guilty when I was with my real life girlfriend. I couldn’t give that relationship the attention it deserved. I needed Amanda back so I could be whole again. So in the end I had to break up with my cute, kind, emotionally stable girlfriend so that I could have my Amanda back. That sure was a scary experience. I thought I had lost Amanda forever.
From here on in, Amanda, it’s just you and I. Together till the end of time. Or at least until I die.