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| I
was only. I am only. What I am. by Cristina L. Cordova |
| I
was only thirteen years old. Only thirteen. He came over when my parents were
out. It was on the living room floor. My pants were down. His were at his ankles.
I was only thirteen. I had no idea. No idea of what was happening. Not really.
I still don't. But somehow I don't think he ever entered me. I think I would have
known. But I was only thirteen. He left out the window. My parents came home.
The next day he called me laughing on the phone. A baby cried in the background.
"That will be you in nine months," he laughed. But I wasn't laughing.
I was only thirteen. I was only fourteen when he pushed me to the floor to kneel before his nakedness and I turned away. I was only fourteen. Only fourteen when I left the room and he took in another. Only fourteen when my cousin tried to comfort me, caressing me, sliding his warm hand up my leg, under my dress and into my moistness. I was only fourteen. I was only fifteen when he told me that I must not be a virgin if I could do that so well. I was only fourteen. He was twenty-one. He was beautiful. I was only fifteen. I was only fifteen when he told me that he loved me. "Lust," I said. "It's only lust." I got out of the car. And he drove away. I was only fifteen. I was only sixteen when my mouth was so full of noise and my heart with rage. I was only sixteen. I was only seventeen when he took me in his arms. His parents were out of town. He took me in their bed. One minute. Then again. I was only seventeen. It was no big deal. I was vaguely disappointed. But we tried again and again. I was only seventeen. I was only seventeen when he finally took what he had wanted for so long. In a room full of people in New York. I was only seventeen when he quietly climbed on top of me and quietly climbed off. I was only seventeen and glad to give myself to him. I was only seventeen when he invited me over for a drink. I was scared and alone. He was comforting. I was only seventeen when his roommate came home and they both began to kiss me. I was only seventeen. But I walked out the door. I was only eighteen when he thrust his silly body all into me. He was my advisor. I was supposed to rely on his assistance. I was only eighteen. I was only eighteen when he looked on me with the eager glee of inexperience, holding out a long-held condom, begging for awakening. I was only eighteen. He was only sixteen. I was only eighteen when I experienced sheer weightlessness as he grabbed me by the hips and lifted me up into the air onto his hard body over and over again. "Touch him." I told my roommate. "Just touch him." I was only eighteen. I was only eighteen when he told me that I was a small child starved for affection. I was only eighteen. I pulled off my stockings and climbed on top of him. He was my friend. The man in the big yellow hat. I was only eighteen when he told me that he liked it with the girl on top. I was only eighteen and I couldn't remember. I was only eighteen when he took me in the parking lot. I was only eighteen and I don't remember. I was only eighteen when I met him on the airplane. He spent the evening and spent himself. I was only eighteen when I watched the Superbowl with him the following day. I was only eighteen, but I never called him again. I was only eighteen when my body went limp under his. I was only eighteen when he didn't notice. I was only eighteen when he took me to his lair. I was only eighteen when he lit the candles and dropped the heavy fishing net over his bed. I was only eighteen when he let loose the red-eyed ferret and did his dance of death over my awestruck nakedness. I was only eighteen and new to velcro. I was only eighteen when he chose me over a fix. I was only eighteen when he went back to the rig. I was only nineteen when he died. I was only nineteen when he danced me by the river. I was only nineteen and drinking Black Label. He told me I looked like an angel when I slept. I was only nineteen when he called to ask if there was anything that he should know. "Herpes," he said. I was only nineteen and my soul sank. I was only nineteen when I remembered what my mother said. Condoms. Condoms. I was only nineteen, but thank god I listened to my mother. I was only nineteen when he first said "no." I was only nineteen and I didn't understand. But the next night he came back to me and left his socks. I was only nineteen and didn't understand. I was only nineteen, but I broke his heart. I was only nineteen when they said we should be together. I was only nineteen and why not? I was only nineteen when my hand found only softness. I was only nineteen and up to the challenge. I was only nineteen when I found myself crying beneath him. I was only nineteen and I didn't understand. I was only nineteen when we spent ourselves by the river. I was only nineteen and we nearly flooded the house. I was only twenty when we snuck off and gave in to desire. I was only twenty when I heard my boyfriend calling from the other room. I was only twenty and quietly crept out the back door. I was only twenty when he made my smile. I was only twenty when he drove me wild. I was only twenty when I dreamt pools of red on white. I was only twenty when I said "no" and he didn't hear. I was only twenty when my anger turned to pity. I was only twenty when his curly red locks fell upon my bonded wrists. When he writhed across my soul in all his excellence and I wouldn't let him in. I was only twenty. I was only twenty when I fed myself time and time again on his grateful flesh. I was only twenty and discovering that I too could feed. I was only twenty-one when we spent the night in honky-tonk whiskey at the Village Idiot. I was only twenty-one when I woke to his tears as he tormented over how to tell his girl. I was only twenty-one. I was only twenty-one when he wooed me with sketches, flare and Marvel fame. I was only twenty-one when he laid me on a bed of wine and pizza on his living-room floor on the jersey shore. I was only twenty-one. I was only twenty-one when I watched him drink scotch after scotch to the tune of a failing liver. I was only twenty-one and he explained his art as he heaved his scotch-logged belly over my loins in all his sweetness. I was only twenty-two when he gazed down deep into my very esse. When our eyes pierced deep into each other's core and I once made love. I was only twenty-three when he pulled me out of my rut of reprimand and laid on some appreciation. I was only twenty-three when he let me lead the way. When he reached out to me for all the answers. I was only twenty-three. And I couldn't let him love me. I was only twenty-four when I let him love me if only for a while. I was only twenty-four when I slid my tongue between her legs and made her buck across the room in her special way, purring as she went. I was only twenty-four. I was only twenty-four when she made me feel small in the way only a professor can. I was only twenty-four when I pushed her to the wall in anger, eager to show her that she wasn't in control. I was only twenty-four when I slid off her clothes, throwing her back onto her bed and burrowing into the warmth of her loins until I was sure I had won. I was only twenty-four when I left her sitting all alone in the café asking for more. I was only twenty-four when she asked me to sleep in her bed. I was twenty-four and tired. I wanted to go home. I was only twenty-four, but I felt bad. I stayed. I was only twenty-four when I felt her hot breath on my neck and her warmth caress my back. I was twenty-four and tired, but I felt bad. I was only twenty-four, but I thought the best way to get sleep was to put her to rest. I was only twenty-four when I took her large breasts into my mouth and worked my way down. I was only twenty-four and she woke the whole house with her screams. I was only twenty-five when I finally ceded to a ten-year-old demand. I was only twenty-five and I fell asleep. I was only twenty-five when our drugged-out stupors ended nightly in a few cold thrusts. I was only twenty-five and much too proud to show I cared. I was only twenty-five when we fucked upon his floor. I was only twenty-five, but when I asked him to come with me to see the lights, he declined. I was only twenty-five. I was only twenty-six when she wooed and cooed and I left her shackled to my bed. Twenty-five when she said, "Fuck me. Fuck me." Twenty-five when she said, "Baby. Baby, let me fuck you." Twenty-five when she lay soft and naked in the darkness pleading, "I'd like to please you too." And I answered, "don't bother." Seeing the bewilderedness and hurt through my rear-view mirror. Twenty-five when she took me to her home and offered to keep me and care for me then put me on a train with a bottle of scotch. I was only twenty-six when I agreed to give my heart and soul completely. Twenty-six when he left me cold and alone, promising to love me forever and not offering a mere caress. I was only twenty-six when I thought my soul would dry up forever. I was only twenty-seven when I woke up with a stranger and small children crying at my feet. I was only twenty-seven when her beauty seduced me and her body screamed for me and her youth required more than I desired to give. I was only twenty-seven when she danced me through the night and reminded me where I was from. When she woke my body and then confused me with her past, crying silently through the night until I slid out quietly through the back door. I was only twenty-six when she cried her sorrows and only twenty-six when I said no. I was only twenty-eight when he fooled me into believing I could love again. When he made me feel like I was home. Twenty-eight when he turned my world upside down and made me realize the nothing I had become for him. I was only twenty-eight when he taught me what it means to be a woman. Only twenty-eight. I was only twenty-nine when he showed me the other side. When he drew me a bath and warmed me with smoothies and shots of wheat grass. I was only twenty-nine, but I was too lost and confused and went the other way. I was only twenty-nine when I let his dark flesh devour me. When I let him express every ounce of desire over every inch of my body. When I let him give me everything my withering body needed. I was only twenty-nine and oh so satisfied. I was only twenty-nine when he reminded me how disappointing sex can be. I was only thirty when I came upon raw nakedness. I was only thirty and he clothed me in his love. I am only thirty-one. I am only thirty-one and my body aches for you. I am only thirty-one and I am only. What I am. |
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