His name was Kevin

frankieonfire By frankieonfire, 3rd Jan 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed | Short URL http://nut.bz/hjuo7gar/
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Personal Experiences

'Nothing changes if nothing changes'; a girls anthem as she embraces the reality of fairy tales and happy endings. Her journey down the wayward roads of innocence and love and heartache and self actualization. A memory of ending yet another chapter and liberation becoming her solace as she finds another chance to be sincere.

His name was Kevin

So at long last, I ditched my ball and chain. I hate to put it like that, but Jason was hard on everything. Hard on my spirit, hard on my stomach and hard on me. Why it lasted for as long as it did I'll never know. Well I have a few ideas. Ego. Dreams. Lust. Revenge. This isn't a story about any of that, it's about my first date back in the universe of single-dom with a guy named Kevin.

Jason was the older man in my life. I was 17 and still somewhat awkward looking. A few pounds of baby fat, no sense of style, not a clue in the world how to say to the world, "HEY!! This is me! Here I am!" and with my baggy sweatshirts and bushy eyebrows and you looking you could tell that I couldn't find one thing inside me worthwhile. My voice was cowed and I was busy trying to find ways to be a wallflower. A piece of art hiding against plaster, never noticed and never talked about.

I come from a broken home. A home together, then broken, then put back together again only to experience more and more nightmares. Jason is the first man I thought I loved. He was 24 and godlike to me. I spent every moment with him I could. He picked me up and out of the country when I ran away from home then let me crash on his couch while I found a job and my first apartment. Then as I dropped out of school working full time, he came to my "Unity" graduation. A collection of poster children who needed a pat on the back and helping hands to find a future, the first step; completion of high school. We spent summers camping, he taught me how to fish (not a skill I ever employ) he'd tell me witty remarks to make to my step-dad next time he started a drunken fight. I called Todd things like "dildo", "ass-plug", "dooder-face" and "pregnant ape" . He would stutter and Jason and I would laugh about it. Now I see it, he treated me like his little sister. He stopped me from taking off with a group of roadies to work with bands, after I took off to Madison and worked with Mega-death, Nickleback and Edema Jason dragged me home. He thought I should be taken care of. That I was innocent and naive. He never saw that everyday I raged battles against what was going on inside me, and never once did he see me for the warrior I was. For the goddess I would become. It crushed me when I spilled my guts and he shunned me. When I found him kissing my roommate. She wasn't really my roommate, more like the girl I let stay with me after she was kicked out of her half-way house. We all had fun together. She knew I was keening for just one look of desire from J. She took me in with her punk blond hair and the delightful curves to her ass. (I hadn't yet questioned my sexuality). I thought she was that "forever" friend. It crushed me when I kicked her out and he stopped talking to me. When she would say..."Pussy Cat, you know I love you, if your mad, just say it." My purrs turned into hisses and I think she got the clue when I kicked her off my couch. Her and all her plastic nonsense.. in fact I think I have a poem about her.

Pussy Cat

I; intemperate
Push ME
A Blond Image
in isle #7
Health and Beauty
In drug stores all across America
Shedding no tears
No remorse
Walk in
Be welcome
You took
Well done
Well done
Walk Out
Be happy
Vulnerable? YOU?
Tolerance and weakness
My downfall
You walk
stomp, dance on the pieces
of a plastic past
Tucked them away in your neat corner
Next to your mess
I want them
They are next to your lipstick and blush
I broke your mirror
walk out.

Anyhoo.. back to Jason and then Kevin

"Pussy cat" and I stopped talking. Jason was OCD and was just as captivated with her ass as I was. Thing about captivating asses? They get bigger, and unlike bank accounts and credit scores, getting bigger is not necessarily a good thing. So in order to "make it work", I was pushed out of the picture. I devoted many pages of my journal to him, with poems full of self-loathing and blurred ink. I was a miserable little creature nursing a bleeding heart. My first image change? Emo. Dark eye-liner and black hair. I cranked Eve 6 and early Lincoln Park, mixed in with some jazzy Nora Jones and other minute that lasted forever on the radio music. I moved to NC. I did a lot of drugs. I snorted line after line until I "found myself". I used men like I'd been used and let them use me some more. I found freedom in dirty sheets and glass pipes. I cleaned up, had another roommate disaster and on a prayer drove back home to a weeping mother and pieces of my broken past.

I was revived though. On my way out of town I chucked all my clothing and stopped for an entirely new wardrobe. Image changes always help. It's how I put on another face to face new challenge. Punk tee-shirts, dickey’s, cardigans and long auburn hair. Every 100 miles I had to stop to put coolant in my car and clean my windows off of salt from the slushy roads. I bartered for hotel rooms on the 2,000 mile drive back home. I blared Ani DiFranko, the White Stripes, Janice, Johnny and the Ramones until I saw the skyline of good old Duluth. It reminded me once again of the Lost City of Atlantis. Tears seeped my eyes and I was excited for anther chapter in my journey to begin. "Nothing changes if nothing changes" a bumper sticker I bought at a gas station for my worn out beater. As I found myself around familiar coffee shop tables and smoke gatherings, I'd watch the look in the eyes of old friends as they tried to figure out what happened to the old me. They wrapped me in gauze of mystery and I adored the dark secrets that surrounded me.

I found art in men’s flesh and the way it wrapped around my pinky. My gaze held adoration for beauty and a goddess was within grasp. I dabbled in the occult until that scared the shit out of me; I had enough of my own ghosts and no room for guests.

Three years. Three years since I'd seen him. Three years that he'd ignored me. A birthday party and a hundred people, I'd just come inside from a quick smoke break catching up on adventures between friends and I. Wearing tight jeans and a vintage tee-shirt printed with some local bands logo, a green cardigan with a total of eight buttons, each one different to replace the typical white ones. It was my one and only time sewing since Jr. High when I had to make a stupid sunflower gym bag. My long auburn hair was wavy and full of multi-colored extensions; purple, blue, green and pink. Over my outfit I had on a beautiful black coat with a popped collar it had blue and white embroidered flowers, a trail of embroidery down my back. I had my arm through Caitlin’s and Jitterbugs and we laughed over something silly. Fresh and youthful and healthy once again he saw me. I was beautiful. I had stopped hiding. He loved me, and I loved that he loved me.


I knew the moment he fell in love with me. Our first date we started in the bar at Pizza Luce, we had taco's, his filled with seasoned cow meat and mine with a meat alternative made of plant protein and black beans. We talked and with each opening conversation his eyebrows would rise and I knew he was filled with regret. He'd ventured out after Stephanie and suffered another horrible relationship that produced a baby girl. I oohed and ahhed and we started talking about writing. He was working on a screenplay and wondered if I'd come over to help him with it sometime. We finished our meal. He asked where to go next so we went roller skating. He was helpless and I merciless. I skated circles around him, stopping to pick him up and he'd pull me down and we laughed in the middle of Jr. High kids and seniors reliving their youth. He tried to kiss me and instead I got up, zoomed ahead and looked behind me. I don't know what he saw in me at that moment as my hair was caught in my momentum, my curves played perfectly in my green dress (green is my favorite color), and chunky roller skates, as I smiled and winked back at him, but I knew magic had just happened. Taking off our skates with love in the air he looked down at me and his face turning red he took in my body. He wanted to ravish me right there, he said "I can't believe how much your (stutter) body, (cough) you have changed." and smartly I smirked.

 No one liked us together. Everyone remembered my heartache and our vulgar comments about each other. All I knew was he loved my passion, my passion for writing, for dancing, for debate. He loved that I'd go down on my knees for him as he made me breakfast. I opened worlds for him and he gave me my first orgasm. He loved the way I tasted and I loved that he loved that. His enthusiasm was cute. For 2.5 years we dated. We lived together. My friends that didn't hate him thought I walked into a fairy tale. A fairy tale ending with happily ever after written in our future wedding vows. Hated how much of me he consumed. He wanted to consume. My fingers, neck and wrists he wrapped in sparkly jewels, my body in clothes he thought I wanted. I took care of his daughter and soon found myself questioning things. Feeling trapped and with only room for one eventuality..."til death do we part" rang in my ears and panic left me breathless. He bombarded me with attention. I'd come home from supervising at work for 13 hours and like a little boy he couldn't wait to plant me with kisses. I hated it. He drove me bonkers. I felt numb. Nothing.


Touch me
I cannot feel you.
Rub your fingers through my hair
I feel nothing
I see auburn tresses
Break in trails.
Bite my nipples
Lap your tongue
Tease, twist.
I am not erect.
Put your hand low on my back
Make me catch my breath
Slam me into you.
My breath is calm
Slide your hand up my thigh
Break apart my skirt
Press your flesh into mine.
Make me flinch.
No goose bumps. No fear.
Slide inside me
Press me into the wall.
Bruise me.
I want to sigh.
I want to raze your back.
I feel nothing.
Look into my eyes
Tell me that you love me.
I lose all breath
I lie shattered on the floor.


I may always question who and what I am, but I know what I am not. I am not built for domestic. I am not that girl. I prize my independence too much. Life's crashes have made me that way. I fell for what I thought every girl would want, and not what this girl needed. I said earlier that I loved that he loved me, and I wonder at myself. Am I vain enough to have wanted him to hurt the way he once hurt me? Did I stay with him just to be loved my someone who'd once shunned me? Did I like that he was helpless when it came to me? Helpless the way a victim feels? I started picking on him. I lost respect for him and all that he needed from me. We went to therapy. She sided with me. In good fun I'd put all the pens in weird places just to watch his eyes pop. (O.C.D) I'd ask him if he locked the doors and turned off the stove, I tormented him. Sometimes we laughed about it, other times we fought, then made up. Near the end I hated him. I was evil. Then I left.


You are there
Not an ounce of effort
Will you exude
To hear the frost in your ear.
You are free.
A playful gait
Eyes brimming with excitement
With light.
Like wild horses flapping
Effortlessly in the wind
A stallion shouts is challenge
To mount its mare
And I wrap the sounds around me
Comb them though my hair.


A girl grew up, and realized fairy tales don't really have happy endings. No matter what story you want to live, if it's not yours, it doesn't matter how good the idea seems. Realizing more and more about self everyday she realizes the man she once saw was just a little boy and that's no longer an option. Another ending of a chapter and she sighs in relief, another chance to be sincere. Image change after image change leaves just that.. another image. 2.5 years it took her, but better late than never. I wish I still had that bumper sticker.. "Nothing changes if nothing changes". There's a lot left out here, but this is about Kevin, not Jason.

Silence of The Season

Further from my mind you fall
your touch, your breath
Your smell, your weirdly annoying growl.
I shout and only echoes follow
I am alone
But laughter follows me everywhere.
You’re the thought I cannot finish
the wall that turned to glass.
Shattered and porcelain eyes are left behind.
Oh, how the silence of the season feels...
Like man tongue in my privates
lapping and juicy and exquisite.
Like the sweat of dance
A caress of the thunder inside
Electricity turns my insides to fire
Fire of the mind
It speeds past the finish line
wheezing and out of breath
Its muscles sore
and tight.
A stretch that pulls forth a groan
a deep excited groan that lasts so long
and so quietly that the clock ticks away
past minutes
and I feel fine.

Bath bubbles turn and twist floating thoughtlessly in the air.
Glittering as candle flames flicker
and perfume falling on the floor.
My joints and their long lengths release in languishment
and hot water touches me everywhere.
Perfume turns to sweet honey,
and birds are everywhere,
humming in my ear, like music playing on the breeze.
And tiles on the floor turn into
sweet grass and sunshine
It turns my skin pink and my lips red
and now I lie in a garden enchanted with wishes
and I think
The silence of the season…


Challenges, Change, Character, Love Romance Definition What Is It, Love Story, Self Awareness, Self Confidence, Self Discovery

Meet the author

author avatar frankieonfire
I'm a Poet, an artist, a Phoenix. I am a gypsy. My people wondering the lands of Italy dreaming, living, loving. My name isn't Frankie. This is a page full of my inner most meanderings.<div class="hub

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author avatar Mark Gordon Brown
3rd Jan 2013 (#)

Ah yes the life lessons we all learn from. But there are happy endings if you keep looking.

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author avatar frankieonfire
4th Jan 2013 (#)

Yes Mark, there sure are. In fact this lead to one ;)

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