Skyybird

So…I’ve been thinking about who I am. Why I’m wired this way. Trying to find a moment in the past when I suddenly became me. I was younger then, innocent even. My head was full of love against the odds and unrequited angst. Patrick Swayze had overcome social class boundaries and taken Baby out of the corner so romantically, Tom Cruise had romanced his instructor out of the elite flight school and into the depths of my imagination. I was raging with hormones I had no idea how to harness and my bedroom was my temple.

School was something I enjoyed. I had a thirst for knowledge, I enjoyed interaction with my peers and my teachers in most instances. A few close calls almost got me in trouble for smoking at the back of the cricket pavilion too, but a bunch of us befriended the teacher who always seemed to be on duty and once he realised he couldn’t beat us he decided to join us for his daily dose of nicotine.

I have some great memories of school. I had some awesome teachers I guess I was lucky. But it was my music teacher who made the biggest impression on me. Most of the kids hated him. He had the kind of sense of humour that you only really got if you were mature enough to figure out what he meant. He called us all by our surnames, although the girls did get ‘miss’. The boys hated him because he was a ‘nerd’, the girls hated him because he was mean. Somehow I never felt the need to hate him, I was too busy trying not to let it show how much I actually liked him. I used to blush easily in those days. Crimson red if he so much as looked at me. But I brought it on myself, studying hard, enjoying my lessons, doing my homework, knowing the answers in class. I had my hand up after every question. Somehow I just had a flair for it. The discomfort of his stare and my blush were a heady mix. I wonder if that is where all of this started.

I mean, lets face it I should have hated him like everyone else. I should have dreaded music lessons like all the others. Instead I found myself looking forward to them. Sitting in my chair waiting for him to pick me to answer the question, heart pounding, adrenaline rush, always followed by some kind of dry sarcastic response when I gave the right answer. That was the moment I longed for.

“Been swatting again have we?”

“What’s it like to know it all?”

Yes…. more….tease me, make me blush. Embarrass me in front of my peers. Bring it on.

It became a game in the end. But one thing I do know is that I found him incredibly attractive. A man with a personality. A sense of humour that wasn’t like anyone else I knew. He had me under a spell.

Delicious…..