Mmmmm, and I was thinking about Jim today. Not the best thing to think about, but I was thinking about him with a smile. I wrote a piece for him a year or so ago. Was thinkin bout im...

Jim was a nice guy. A real nice guy. Sweet, kind, gentle and soft spoken. He didn't talk much, but when he did, there was something of merit in what he said.

I considered him my fiance. Nothing was ever spoken. He never asked me, I never asked him. We weren't officially dating, even. *shakes her head* But I would have married him. Course, I was 21 and he was 33. *smiles* At that point, I didn't think age was a big deal.

Age is never a big deal for the one who wants the relationship. But, the one who doesn't want the relationship realizes things. Like a ten year age difference is a big damned deal when one person is 17 and the other is 27.

Regardless, that's way beyond the point. *smiles softly* As Flatline said the other day... (paraphrasing here) "Digression is good".

Anyway, I met Jim in February of 92. I was 21. We met at church, along with Petar and Stuart. The four of us would meet every weekend to do stuff. I admired Jim and liked him a lot. He was so gentle and tender. But he said some things that really hurt me. He didn't intend to hurt... but it did.

*shrugs* I suppose all that is beside the point as well.

I enjoyed Jim's company. I had a habit of going down to the waterfront and walking along the water. I'd usually go in my jeans and black sweater... and I'd walk along, thinking it was a very romanticized sight. *shakes her head* Uh huh. At the time I was only about 70 lbs overweight or so. But still, just that much looks disgusting to most of the males of contemporary age.

Regardless... one night, I told Jim that I was gonna go walkin along the waterfront. He asked me when. I told him, my usual time, round 1:30am or so. He told me not to do that alone... that it was dangerous. *shakes her head* I didn't believe so. I still don't. Hell... Who wants to mug or rape some fat chick? That's what I thought. That's what I believed. I suppose I still do... but now, I live in a small town and I've been so successfully curbed by the ex, that I don't go anywhere anymore. Damn it's hard to break out of that.

The point of this whole entry was to talk about Jim, but I keep getting distracted. Distracted by pictures that enter my mind. Like the first time Jim and I walked along the waterfront. We walked side by side. We didn't say much. We just walked, we were paced. And, after a while, Jim just stopped, looking out to the water. I stopped too. It was so very dark. We were between streetlights. It was really cold.

It was about the end of march... and it had snowed just a few days before, I think. Don't remember.... I just have this specific memory... black, pure black sky. stars everywhere over the water, fewer stars the closer the eye traveled toward Tacoma. *smiles softly*

For those of you who know anything about Tacoma... we were on Rusten Way. Looking out over the sound, with the CI Shenanigans to the right of us as we stared at the water... so we were way down on the Waterfront. There weren't too many streetlights where we were. I liked it down there, as the streetlights tended to block out the view of the stars.

*smiles sadly* We didn't have to talk. We just spent time together.

Jim was battling with addiction. Serious addiction. He'd come off a ten year Coke habit. He'd tried everything out there. And he just couldn't get over the addiction. And he hated that. He was working with a doc to get him off the rest of the shit. He was on a perscription of Methodone which he was actually weaning himself off of.

I remember standing there, beside him, sliding my hand through that space between his arm and his side, the black suede of his jacket was rough and soft at the same time. I remember inhaling slowly, opening my mouth, preparing to speak, Jim saying two words... "I know." I nodded, and we didn't speak again for nearly an hour. I think.

The memory is a little fuzzy. I remember the sky. I remember the texture of that damned jacket. That damned, motherfucking jacket that hangs in my closet now.

God I miss him. God I miss him so much. Just having that body beside me, that person who KNEW what I was thinking.... God I miss him. So much.