it had been almost two years since that bewitching summer we spent falling for each other. i still remember with vivid fondness the afternoon we first met. it was like being back on a playground as a school boy when she suddenly pushed me down and laughed wickedly while i looked up in mock helpnessless. jux saved me from further physical injury by finally arriving in his '65 ford cherry red thunder-bird and whisking us back to west oakland. in the car, we were conveniently pressed close together in the shallow backseats. the windows were rolled all the way down and wisps of her hair kept brushing against my cheek. i remember thinking how adorable she looked with that thin brown ribbon wrapped in her hair. she was wearing her faded pink and blue plaid short-sleeved button-down shirt. around her neck was a worn dog chain that clinked ever so softly whenever she shifted her weight against me. i dont think she was ever without her dog chain on; i still wear mine and have only taken it off once.
   she rested her hand on my knee when i wasnt noticing. i was filled with an adolescent giddiness thinking that perhaps we might be together for the rest of the summer, and maybe we would do more touching together. lost in fantasy, i was slow and oblivious. withdrawing her hand meekly, i suddenly had second thoughts. maybe she had not meant to touch my knee? was it accidental, and she was merely feigning courtesy by retracting it so slowly? my summer daydream of us together quickly shattered. i felt like such a fool. a few weeks later she revealed to me that she too was plagued by insecurities that day. we both howled with laughter at how absurd love makes people. we vowed to fight it.
   together, we fought resiliently but to no avail- for in the end we proved vanquished. summer love was too formidable to be challenged, even by the likes of us. resigning ourselves as prisoners of war, i remember lying close to her in the grassy fields of Golden Gate park. the homeless and family picnickers were strewn all about us. with our heads touching and hands held together, we watched the clouds lazily circumambulate the expansive azure sky. a lot of the summer we spent this way: riding BART, watching foreign film, reading fanzines, walking around the creek, hanging out on Telegraph, i shake my head fondly when i think about how obnoxious we must have appeared at times- me, inevitably talking too loud and laughing at something insensitively, while she would shush me furiously while trying to retain some modicum of dignity. i will never forget the look of pure exasperation you gave me when i accidentally shattered your big glass juice bottle all over the lobby of that hospital lobby. immediately, i broke out into uncontrollable peals of unapologetic laughter and hilarity. that really pissed her off. at the same time, she was still awfully proficient at giving me a lethal taste of my own medicine, particularly the times when we would be riding BART and she would repeatedly whisper a certain word lasciviously into my ear making me blush madly and giving me wicked goosebumps. she defintely seemed particularly fond of doing that.
   sometimes i pinch myself and wonder why i ever left her and the eastbay. there are times when i feel so lost and so lonely and so far from home. i curse my wanderlust and resolve that it is time to call it quits, go home, and settle down for awhile. i make elaborate mental plans of starting life anew, but it makes me hopelessly dizzy as i cannot discern the source of my heartsickness. am i longing to return home to friends and family in Chicago? or back to Berkeley to be with her again? the question seems unresolvable, so i resign myself dejectedly to feelings of displacement and desolation. i usually fall asleep hoping to dream again of the first night she slept over.
   it was a friday and we had plans to meet at MacArthur BART. i was inebriated with excitement to proudly show off my new trophy. i had just recently acquired a rusty old 1960 styled bike from the Ashby flea market. racing down Adeline to 40th street, i enjoyed my new found freedom of possessing a bicycle. it is laughable how long i endured my shoddy skateboard. no longer would i play the hapless fool of west oakland's insidious potholes and vicious mongrel dogs.
    arriving at MacArthur BART, she was already there to greet me with a hug. she politely indulged me, and marvelled over my bicycle and its whopping three speeds. before long we were on BART heading for Berkeley. arriving in Berkeley, we walked up and down Shattuck and University enjoying the fading warmth of summer. we dined at Hong Fu's, where the waitress unwittingly gossiped about us in Cantonese. it was midly amusing when i insisted on ordering our soy lemon chicken in Cantonese. she barely ate anything, and as usual I wolfed down what was on my plate, and then helped myself copiously to what remained on her's.
   with our bellies full, we strolled up through UC Berkeley and Sproul Plaza. holding hands, we walked under the many trees and past all the spooky statues. drifting aimlessly again toward Telegraph, she spied a flyer advertising the showing of Muriel's Wedding at the campus theater. without a second thought, we scampered across Sproul Plaza again and uphill to the theater. she had seen Muriel's Wedding before, but gracious refrained from ruining it for me. we giggled furiously during the ABBA songs and lip synched them together. afterwards, we were spilled back outside. it had grown much darker, but the air was still enticingly warm. we decided to hop on BART back to West Oakland.
   night time in west oakland is so dramatic. it is violently quiet and simmering with grim intensity. i loved it. unlocking the double locks from the thick rusty chain on my bicycle, i entreated her to hop on. as first it was wobbly trying to pedal standing up, while precariously balancing her on the tiny seat. soon after, we were recklessly weaving in and out of the mysterious shadows cast by the towering street lamps. the crumbling houses and shady liquor stores were a blur. the neighborhoods and projects no longer seemed menacing, as i felt invincible. fiendishly leaning backwards, i threatened to pop wheelies, while she shrieked pleadingly in my ear to stop, and clutched me closer. it was strange to experience the sensation of flying, when the two of us barely fit on the small iron frame of a bicyle.
   we tumbled through the front door like a pair of stray alley cats. on a whim, we ransacked the press looking for leftover spraypaint, wih the intent of exercising our right to fuck shit up. our attempts yielded an empty can of silver, and a half full can of red. i lent her my dark sweatshirt, and we were back outside again engulfed once again by the warm darkness.
   unfamiliar with the procedure of being purveyors of wanton havoc and senseless vandalism, we lurked and prowled about the looming warehouse complexes and barbed wire fences of west oakland's industrial district. we tagged our names inconspicuosly on some secluded sidewalls, and laughed then at our inept attempts of graffiti and civil disobedience.
   we somehow ended up behind a monstrous industrial dumpster. the space between the wall and the dumpster was intimately scare, but we made the most of it. she pressed herself against me, and i rested my chin against the top of her head. in silence, we shared heartbeats, as the extreme proximity of our bodies spoke volumes. everything around us ceased to exist. it was just her, me, and the dumpster, beneath the vast starless West Oakland sky.
   finally emerging from the dumpster, i was dazed and disoriented- drunk on unspoken affection. it was late, the latest we had ever been out together. returning home to PWP, she scuttled toward another dumpster, and defiantly tagged "i heart pep" in blood red drippy letters. it glistened beautifully. suddenly a menacing voice growled at us. frozen like deer, we looked whirlingly about. the night was mute again, as the infinite windows around us revealed nothing in their shadowy reflections. we were seemingly alone. again, the voice suddenly yelled an imprecation undeniably directed at us. we ditched our incriminating spraypaint cans, and walked feverishly back to the warehouse.
   arriving with jittery fear and paranoia back home, we were immediately greeted by rex, who mockingly mimicked the voice that so thoroughly reduced us to poltroons- nothing like ghetto humor among friends. we sat around with jux, mike, and rex watching mtv, until we could stay up no longer. we bade our goodnights, and retired to the my tiny cubbyhole of a room.
    she always made the best of the hard floor, and never complained about my dearth of even a single pillow or blanket. with the door closed, the room was saturated with inky blackness. immolated in darkness, we talked dreamily of nothing of particular significance. i focused on her breath so close to my ear, and feeling her skin gently against mine. inescapably, we surrendered to the wooing of our hormones. the darkness reduced our senses to touch, taste, and smell. like animals, we exhausted ourselves in the murky blackness. afterwards, we faded to quiescence, intoxicated by billie holiday on the turntable. a rare sense of peace and enrapture was created.
   more than a year later, we are on our separate coasts, and breathing different people's air. its never been the same, since i left the eastbay. times change, as do people, while memories and wishful thinking are immutable. but sometimes it seems that dreams serve only to remind us of the hurt and sorrow we've left behind.