That I Knew

Perhaps I'll never know love, a young girl at sixteen. I mean I never was before... in fact I had never been able to grasp the concept in the hacknied, candy-sweet fantasies not my own. It was hard to imagine how being touched could send a jerk down one's spine, simply being touched, not carassed, not groped, just touched. A flickering flash of contact that left as soon as it came that impacted me more than anything that I had ever seen or heard. I was-- am-- so naive. Perhaps I always will be, in some manner. The expanse of the human experience can only go so far; will I not always be learning? Constantly feeling like the student again and again? And for me, especially for me, that is unbearable. I knew everything, or at least I knew a lot. Or at least I knew more than him. And the plastic words that formed out of his mouth... I knew they were just that. The lies that were so obvious... I knew they were lies. The insubordinate place I held in his heart, compared to her... I knew where I stood. And yet, this all-knowinggiftedstraight"A"geniusrationalcautious girl, let him in.