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It's all Too Beautiful
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It's all Too Beautiful A shaft of hazy sunshine lay across my desk. It would have been about four thirty and I could hear the ebb and flow of late afternoon traffic drifting in through the open window from the street below. "Hey Dreamer, your girlfriend's here," chirped a long haired fifteen year old from his perch on the window sill. "Cor, she's gorgeous isn't she," he enthused. I put down my book and walked over to the window giving him a playful dirty look. As their<b> eighteen </font></b>year old house prefect I had managed to generate a degree of respect by treating the seven or eight lower-fourth years, of whom I was in notional charge, with a certain amount of firm but lenient good humour, avoiding discipline by being slow to lay down the law, but expecting some restraint of their otherwise wayward natures in return. As a result life was easier for both sides in this, my final year at school. In fact as I remember they were usually a lot of fun. Exams were nearly finished, and for me life in the real world was about to begin, but I didn't know it then. I was lost in a world of warm skin and perfume, soft lips and the smell of newly washed hair, and I don't suppose I was really thinking too far ahead. I looked out of the window, and there she was, the girl who long-time readers of this blog may remember as Lizzy, my seventeen year old girlfriend. She was wearing a crisp white business shirt rolled up at the sleeves, fading blue jeans and trainers. She was looking up at our third floor window and smiling, and she was indeed, stunningly gorgeous. I am reminded of this scene by Torrid¬_Affair, who asks in her blog about music which brings back a memory, and although I can think of many examples, I immediately replied with "Itchycoo Park" by the Small Faces, which always makes me think of Lizzy, and those two or three summers we spent together while I was at school in Oxford. The lyrics of Itchycoo Park talk about dreaming spires and the bridge of sighs, both Oxford references, which I later found out came about because the song’s east-end London writer Ronnie Lane had been reading a brochure about Oxford and thought it sounded romantic. (I know the real Bridge of Sighs is in Venice, but there is a bridge over a street between two buildings in Oxford which is called by that name because it looks like the original. ) The real park Ronnie Lane and his friends used to go to was in Ilford apparently, not the most lovely part of London in those days. It was a 1967 song, but re-released in 1975 which would have been when I got to know it, and it does have a dreamy, romantic, long hot carefree summer feel to it, but up-tempo, so it isn't too slushy. (You can tell I've been reading peterwasted's blog can't you – I am drifting towards his esoteric informational style here, lol. Anyway on this particular occasion - I really do remember it in detail even after all these years - Lizzy came by the school house after she'd finished her day and we walked down Longwall Street and through the University parks to a place which in those days everyone called Rainbow Bridge. I don't know if they still do or if that was ever its real name. It was a quiet, long grass part of the park, and although "Itchycoo Park"'s lyrics sing about getting high, that wouldn't have been our reason for going there. I found a faded old picture of Lizzy the other day, and I realised almost for the first time just how incredibly beautiful she really was. She looked like a softer, more approachable, Lauren Bacall. I knew I was in love with her, and I did find her very sexy, but I almost think I took her looks for granted. Hey, I was young, and "don't it always seem to go....." etc. I had no idea she was that gorgeous, lol. She was, probably still is, an amazingly fun, kind and strong-minded person too. It ended, slowly, as we found more and more things we disagreed about. We were both growing up, finding our perspectives on life, and I think we thought that if we didn't agree then one of us must be wrong. Neither of us seemed to accept that the person whose opinion we cared most about didn't always share the same views. It is easy for me to see that now, but back then we just found we kept fighting, and neither of us knew why. I think if we had been just a few years older we might have realised that you don't always have to agree with someone to love them, and we might even be still together now. But then of course I might never have met The Lioness fifteen years later, and I wouldn't want to have missed that for anything! |
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i have missed being in the moment of your words... i saw Lizzy all over again... and this time, Oxford. just lovely, Dreemy Respond to every call that excites Your Spirit ~Rumi  ..
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i have missed being in the moment of your words... i saw Lizzy all over again... and this time, Oxford. just lovely, Dreemy So good to have you back. Stay a little this time? Write me some strange evocative poetry or something? Or some dark semi-fantasy reminiscence from your mysterious past?
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what a nice memory  thanks for sharingGood girls go to heaven,....Bad girls go EVERYWHERE! I love to travel  Come visit my blog tigger678902
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I have not looked her up, but I know she won't be on line because she has been very successful in a field in which people don't usually use social media!
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what a nice memory thanks for sharing
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What a sweet memory. I think if I had been a little older and wiser when I married my first husband we might still have been married now. ~~Anais Nin~~
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"I think if we had been just a few years older we might have realised that you don't always have to agree with someone to love them" True. It still helps to agree though! I think age makes me realise just how unimportant most of my views are. Without doubt, I care as much as I ever did, but I care more deeply now about fewer things.
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What a sweet memory. I think if I had been a little older and wiser when I married my first husband we might still have been married now.
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