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Monkey is what I called her……

May 20, 2006

Nancy and I had more fun than I’ve had with any woman before or since. We travelled, we laughed and drank deeply of the silly draughts of waning childishness. We played house for years and survived earthquakes, oceans and seperations lasting for months. Wonderful and exuberant sex, lots of drugs and a goodly share of rock and roll. We were together for a long time.
Even though I resisted, she burrowed into my soul and made herself a cozy home there, while I scratched and writhed, but never quite got her out from under my skin. I treated her poorly many times. It was my drinking and roving that finally broke us up. Mostly my drinking. She worked at me and tried to convince me that though I was heading down the very wrong path, she was not going to follow. She was a very bright girl. She stayed with me as long as she could and then finally put me out.
We married. She, not too long after we had torn the sheet, I some time later. We had scant communication in those times and years later, as both of our relationships deteriorated, got back in touch and spoke every month or so. She was busy, always busy. Sometimes I would call and she would be too rushed to speak right then, but eventually, we would connect, and it was usually just like the old days; I would spill my guts and she would tell me how to fix it. She would spill hers and I would listen.
Both our marriages fell apart and strangely, I caught my self wondering if maybe we had each married the wrong people, and this was a portent. The heart is the most foolish organ in the body, though there are many others that are running fierce competition. Nancy and I were somehow joined at the heart and soul.
I have never known anyone more restless, inquisitive or fearless. And most of the time happy and free. She’s free now. The girl always new how to get out before it was too late.

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