Shadows

I know that I started being afraid when I was two. I was afraid of my own shadow. My parents said they drew the curtains closed in the daylight.

My shadow, that’s a funny thing to fear isn’t it? When we tell stories about it, my family and me, we laugh.

But that was just the first thing. Then it was dogs, ufos, and having to go to the bathroom on road trips.

The day I introduced Gus to his shadow, I was glad that he was not afraid.

I know that I was also not afraid of some things.

I was not afraid of boys. In fact, I preferred them. David was probably my best friend starting in 4th grade.

We listened to U2’s Rattle and Hum album, played the board game Risk, and drank Mountain Dew together.

I remember David knew the names of every plant in my parents’ garden impatiens, geraniums, hostas…

Needless to say, my mom liked David, too.

I know that I was both afraid and unafraid when David kissed me.

We were slow dancing in the dark school gymnasium at the eighth grade dance.

His face was a shadow proceeding gently toward me. That was the scary part.

I felt his breath first and then his lips kissed mine.

That part was all music, flowers, and sweet like soda; I wasn’t afraid.

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