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Inspiration from '80s Flash Back Night

I find myself thinking more and more often about Warren.

He was the tall farm boy from my first survey anthropology class all those years ago. I know I could have had him, or rather, I know I could have let him have me. The thought is no less tantalizing today as it was the first time I had the realization… a casual touch, a movement of the mouth, and suddenly as bright as a neon sign I knew that there was potential for all sorts of naughty fun to be had with this able and willing man.

I find myself at odd moments thinking about him, remembering the way he laughed, the sound his keys made as they swung against his leg as they dangled from his belt or the look of his handwriting as he wrote his name on his blue book before our final exam. I wonder where he is now. What is he doing? Did he major in AJ like he was planning? Where did he end up transferring to? Even more often, I think about the potential of what was. Who knows if it would have ever gone past the physical and I am not sitting here wondering what our kids would have looked like or if he his hair has started to turn white. No, what I think about, what I wonder about more than anything… is if he ever thinks of me.

How self centered is that? But it is a very honest, and very human thing I think to want to affect people’s lives, especially those who have affected ours. It seems only fair. In a vain way, I want people to wonder about me… the girl they once knew or never got the change to really know or whatever. The concept of wanting to be remembered is what leads people to tag, to write “So and So was here” or eve “K +W 4 Ever” etc. We all want to leave our mark on not only the world… but more importantly, on the people in it.

The concept of wanting to affect people, wanting to leave a lasting mark on their memories is very potent. What an interesting concept to link… if we all carry around emotional scars or marks that others have left on us, then don’t we also all walk around on some level trying to mark (scar?) other people? Not a very romantic idea… but oddly fascinating nonetheless.

Dear Lover,
I don’t know how long we will be together. In the back of my mind I don’t believe in soul mates of love lasting forever. I know out “day in the sun” will most likely find dusk at some point. Even though I will not hasten the end, I have come to terms with the eventuality of it. Having said that, however, I would like to very clearly, very distinctly very deeply mark you. I want the impression I leave on your body and soul to be long lasting. I want you to remember me.

On a similar note, the notion of marking can be viewed as a territorial thing as well as the physical manifestation of the above desire. I bite you and leave a mark. You bite me, suck on my skin, and I carry that with me. Anyone who sees a love bite or hickey knows instantly what it is and what it took to get there. Some people like to be marked for this exact reason… some of us just like the physical sensation… a few even find erotic thrills in the idea of ownership or being marked as a sign of submission. Whatever the motivating factor in either marking or letting oneself be marked, the symbolic meaning is still there… you have been marked and even though that mark will fade, it is there as a reminder of some sort of intimate act.

In today’s world where things come and go so fast, where we meet and forget more people in a week than our grandparents probably knew in their whole lives, where the number of casual dates or fling type relationships can become so large that we start to forget names and faces of past relationships is it any wonder that we seek to be remembered?

Of course, more importantly than if we are remembered, and by whom, is the question of how we are remembered… and why.

Remember yesterday – walking hand in hand
Love letters in the sand – I remember you
Though the sleepless nights and every endless day
I’d wanna hear you say – I remember you

(Skid Row, I Remember You)

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