1978

It was 1978, or at least that’s what it felt like, the vibe, the people surrounding me.  I was by myself at the time, I can’t remember the sequence of events, but there was a huge spanning space next to the ocean where they were digging something.  A massive hole in the ground with benches carved out and we couldn’t go down there yet.  It wouldn’t be ready until now.  But then it was 1978, and it just felt right and it felt like what I was waiting for all my life that I hadn’t experienced because I wasn’t around then.  I had missed it by a year.  But last night I was there, wondering around, my insides high on the vibe (how I wish I could recreate that now, but it’s impossible...or is it?) and I met people, grungy skater boys who were waiting to walk down into that gigantic open space in the ground, and the sky was pink and orange next to the teal ocean and that’s when I saw him.  A much younger version of him, younger than what I remember when I was a little girl in ‘83 or ‘84 when his music was constantly playing on the radio and mtv, and he looked tan and his eyes were like steel ice, and his hair almost too blonde and he made me nervous.  Somehow I meandered over to him with butterflies in my stomach and when he looked at me and began to talk, I swore I fell in love with him and never wanted to leave 1978.  He protected me, looking around like he didn’t trust anyone else and I was so naive, so willing, that I let him put his arm around me and lead me away from the massive hole in the ground towards the sunlight and the street, where the people were and I noticed there were planets floating in the pink sky and I swear I trusted him with all my heart as took me away.  We became best friends in an instant and he gave me that funny feeling and the way he looked at me, I think I did the same for him and his stoic young face was all business when he led me to a parked brown van.  I trusted him and myself, and he spoke with his soft throaty voice, with his English accent and how could I say no, then nothing, blackness.