Summer of Love

I suspect that everybody has a time in their lives that they remember as Golden. That time can be a few years, a few months, or even just a series of days, whatever the case, it is often a memory that keeps a person breathing and standing in times of pain. Now whether or not it truly was a Golden time could likely be argued, but memory is in the mind of the beholder. My Golden time was during the summer of 1990. It was between my sophomore and junior years of college. I still spent my summers at home, worked part time as a waitress ( a job I was absolute shit at) and had ample amounts of time just for me. It was the last summer that my father was still in private practice, so I was wildly spoiled and always had money in my pocket. My brother had moved out of the house to Portland so I had no sibling to fight. I had broken up with my college boyfriend and had no strings attached to me. And I had a group of fun friends, all of them male. Among that group was a Texas newcomer, and that is where it gets Golden.
I can remember being stunned the first time I ever saw him. He was gorgeous and fun and sunny and fun and smart and fun. He was Golden. He was Shannon. He was one of those guys who was just so comfortable with himself that he could laugh at his shortcomings. He could hang with the guys as easily as kiss the girl. And I was smitten from the moment I laid eyes on him. After a few weeks of peeking at each other when we were sure the other guys weren’t looking, I stopped by his house on a day I knew he was off work and asked him to a DePeche Mode concert, yes so early 90′s. We had no tickets. But I had a car and time to burn. So we drove to Denver, found tickets and I dragged him up to the front row where we danced the night away at Red Rocks. He drove on the way home, the top on my car was down and my freshly shaved legs rested in his warm lap. After that we were pretty much inseparable for the rest fo the summer. The rest of the guys in the group were somewhat put out , especially my best friend, and they took every opportunity to mock us. But I didn’t care. I was in love, it was warm and I felt free.
At the end of the summer we returned to school. We wrote, called. He even came to visit me. I then ruined everything by asking another guy to my sorority formal in December. He was gorgeous, too. I ended up sleeping with him and breaking Shannon’s heart. He hasn’t spoken to me since.
The thing is, is that I have never gotten over that summer. For years I lugged a photo album around with me through my many moves. It was filled with pictures of Shannon and me. Matt used to find it and get so angry with me. He finally put his foot down when we moved back into together after an 18 month separation. Loren was three and we were making a fresh go of things. He gave me an ultimatem: either trash the album or he would move out. I took the album and went for a long walk across town, I was crying the entire time. Inserting it into that trash can was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. (Yes, I know. that whole bit is riddled with so many relationship red flags. Did I see them? Yes, but I was hoping Matt, Loren and I could be a family. Plus, I thought my mom might have all of the negatives somewhere in her achives.) So I released it from my clutches and returned home. Matt and I have never again discussed the incident.
Earlier this week I ran across one of the pictures from that summer. It was from a roll of many that my mother had shot of us. Of course I look like crap in it, but there he was. Shannon. Still Golden after 16 years. Wanting them all back, I started looking through boxes of photos in an effort to locate the negatives. Having no luck, I even asked my mother if she could help me find those pictures. She looked at me funny, so I explained why they were gone. Always anxious to help me find the bits of myself that I have buried over the years, she helped me go through boxes of negatives. I couldn’t find the exact ones I wanted, but I did find a few of the ones I fondly remember. And I couldn’t be happier at the moment.
Finding the pictures has made me wonder about a few things. If I could, would I go back? No, not if it meant never having Loren, Cassidy and Devon. If I met Shannon today would I fall into his arms and proclaim my undying love? No, not too likely. Too much time has passed and I am not the same person I was that summer, nor is he. Was it really all about him? Again, not all of it was. I think those pictures represent a time of safety for me. It was one of the last times I can recall feeling careferee. Just two years later I was pregnant. Three years later I had Loren. Four years later I was leaving Matt for the first time. So it is easy to see how that summer has become so Golden in my mind. Plus, I have no idea what has happened to Shannon. He could be in prison or a dead beat dad for all I know.
In any event, I feel a bit more complete having found a few of the photos. It is even better knowing that I am in a place where I can have my memories without anybody pawing through them. That is a new found safety right there.