She lived on 7 Pinoak Lane in a red house with green hedges and tiny flowers
painted on the mailbox.
I loved her with that dreamy intensity typical of 4th grade puppy
love. I don't even know what I was yearning for. I had no real notion
of what sex was, although I knew the basic facts.
I just dreamed of being close to her, of touching
her hand or having her plant a kiss on my cheek. She was utterly feminine
to me, and I guess I had an innate sense that if her intense feminine
energy were to somehow merge with my aching masculinity (don't laugh) the
entire world would suddenly burst into peach-blossom wonder,
sugar-candy ecstacy, the divine union, Dionysus fucks Athena in a
mystical chaste burst of lightning and the universe explodes.
I'm not saying I knew who Athena and Dionysus were back then -- I didn't. I'm
just saying that this must have been the kind of thing I had in mind when I
dreamed about Stacy LeTota.
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