scar tissue

After years of not seeing him, or knowing quite where he was, I finally located my ex-boyfriend, still friend, Michael this week. Every so often I would search for him on line. I watched for his band to show up on Youtube. But it seemed it would never happen.

A few years ago when I searched for his name, his father’s obit came up. It indicated that Michael was living in Plover. The last I’d talked to him, he said he hated email. So I didn’t figure him to be on line. But I searched nonetheless.

Last week I again searched on Youtube for a Sacred Order video, and there he was. Wow! There’s Michael! He looks good! Then I wondered who put the video up. It was Beezer. I knew that was a guy he was in the band with back in the 80’s. I started listening to the videos and it was so much fun.

Then I noticed some videos that were even more recent. Put up by none other than Michael himself! I immediately tried to find my Youtube password and logon so I could leave him a message. After much digging and searching I found something that worked, logged in and emailed Michael.

I waited. I figured he had to look at his site soon! Maybe over the weekend. Sure enough, I checked my email on Sunday and there were messages from Michael!

It’s so nice to hear from someone from your past that you actually love and remember with true warmth the things you did together. Michael and I were quite out there. We were definitely partners in crime. We had a lot in common, I think.

We both were artists and he was a great writer. He ended up writing for the band. Wonderful and funny songs. We both were heavily into punk rock. Hippies from Stevens Point always wanted to beat Michael up because they thought he looked like “a fag.” He wore his hair in a spiky "do" like Bowie. Later he went further towards a Hard core skinhead look and got a flat top, but I really think it was homage to his father Jerry, who inspired both confusion and pride in Michael.

Michael had a great family. Sharon his mom was auburn-haired and loved horses. Later she hurt her back and wasn’t able to ride anymore. I remember her fit and vital. She was beautiful.

We dated for a while, fell madly in love, and decided it would be a good idea to move in together. It was fun for a while. Then I think I started goofing it all up. I guess I wasn’t ready. Things never really recovered from that. I’m sure Michael had his transgressions too, but I don’t know about them… except for Terry, the neighbor, I thought maybe something was there.

When we moved in we bought glass Pyrex mixing bowls -- the nesting kind. We bought Gerber knives. We got all kinds of stuff. We had twin beds that we pushed together in the little bedroom. We were so young.

We used to drive around to grave yards and motels and record stores. We partied in Appleton at the Thirsty Whale on “Punk Night.” I danced so much I actually lost weight when we were doing that.

After we broke up, we tried a few times to get back together. It never seemed to work out. The timing was always bad. Then I got married, had a kid. Then he got married. Then we both got divorced. But during that time didn’t talk. I don’t really know why.

But there are scars from that relationship etched upon my heart. Scars I don’t really mind having. They’re more like tattoos. Brilliant and ornate, they inform my present reality. As I trace around their contours in my minds eye I giggle with delight remembering Michael -- a witty, funny, bold, bawdy, sensitive child of a man. Damaged yet undaunted by this brutal force that is life. I love you Michael. How could I not? I don’t think we can ever be separated. Those beautifully gaudy scars run too deep.




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXxg5maBinM&feature=PlayList&p=421B5B68F1533B8E&index=2