~SCREWING WITH HISTORY~
It all began with a photograph. A photograph of me I never remember being taken. It was a much younger me, back in college. Someone had snapped it while I smiled innocently towards the camera, totally unaware, and I had simply forgotten. And today, years later, it turned up on facebook, posted anonymously on some nostalgic college alumni page. And it would change my life forever.
I did a double take when the image first popped up on my screen. There he was -- this incredibly attractive, blue eyed boy. Definitely my type. Slender, supple. He was wearing this tight dark blue T-shirt, showing off his tanned, well defined arms. His smooth skin, his mysterious gaze, and his full lips revealed a me, a Jack, who had yet to be touched by a woman. His expression was one of melancholy, but also held tones of mischief, and beneath that, untapped curiosity and hunger. It was as if he were looking right back at me across all these years. And I dare say, as I looked back into his inviting eyes, I felt a twinge of arousal.
The days went by. I kept my schedule busy... teaching twelve yoga classes a week. But when I got home, I would open that file, and just look at him. It was weird. It was taboo. I was falling for him. I was falling for me. This beautiful but impossibly distant creature.
I saw him for who he was: a lovely, innocent confused sophomore. His desires tamped down. His sexuality almost invisible to the rest of the student body. Even to himself. A virgin. I wanted to go back to then, and meet him. And teach him what he had been missing all along.
Today I know myself. It has been a long journey to this place. Plenty of wrong turns and mistakes. There had been several relationships with women, all of them ended badly. After a struggle and some deep self examination, I finally accept who I am. I've only dated a coupe of boys, but it feels right. I'm just a late bloomer. Still, it's thrilling and liberating. Looking at my reflection in the mirror throughout the years, I always fancied what a great boyfriend I'd make. Amazing body. Arresting gaze. Very disciplined. Well grounded. I wondered what kind of kisser I was like.
One night, after coming home from a party, I was charged with sexual energy. No one had tickled my fancy at the event. I'd had a few drinks, and kept noticing my reflection through the crowd in the big mirror at the house. I was rather tipsy, and caught a taxi home. My skin felt electric beneath my tight jeans. My fingers kept traveling up and down my arms. I wanted to get home, and be with me. I hastily locked my front door behind me, ready to undress and romance my reflection, when I stopped. What was that glow? My computer was on. I was sure I had left it off. It was set to my facebook page, and that picture of my younger self was on screen, gazing wistfully back at me.
My heart skipped a beat. No one else could have pleased me more at that moment. Younger Jack looked equally pleased in some strange way. But it was the same photo... a male Mona Lisa -- open to infinite interpretation. Or had it changed? I sat down and brought my face right up to the screen, right up to his face. I knew every pixel of the image now, having taken a swim in it every night now for several weeks. He looked the same. Or did he? The smile was slightly more pronounced. His skin was slightly more flushed. His gaze had just a hint more intensity. I felt my mouth go dry, at the same time, I felt my armpits go damp. What was happening to me? Was I experiencing some narcissistic psychotic breakdown?
I didn't care. I started to touch myself. Slowly and tenderly as I looked into his (my) eyes. The arousal built quickly, in that pitched way that no one else could conjure. I had started doing this a few weeks back... No way in hell would I tell anybody, it was the height of taboo. I would climax while crying out my own name, groaning in ecstasy while trying in vain to lure him out of the screen. I would collapse, my smooth, toned, sweat drenched body gasping for air as the afterglow settled in. Unrequited love.
I stepped out of the shower, all cleaned up, ready for bed. I opened the bathroom door, but I stepped into a different room entirely. Big paisley tapestries adorned the wall. Snow and frost framed the window. A small empty bed in the corner... all too familiar. The muffled throb of a Pearl Jam tune came through the wall. I froze in place, taking in the impossible: I was standing in my room at college, twenty years ago. I took a deep breath. It even smelled like the past. The old floorboards, the slightly musty walls. But except for me, the room was empty. Its inhabitant, a far younger me, had already left for the day.
I figured it was just some alcohol induced dream. So what? There I was. My adult self, transported back to sophomore year. And not far off, was my 19 year old self. All I had was a towel. I couldn't be found like this in my room, so I rifled through his (my) bureau) and got dressed -- in clothes I hadn't seen since the Clinton administration. They fit perfectly... All these years of yoga had paid off. I quickly made an exit into the hall and out into the snowy field of North Campus. There they were, all my classmates, as they were back then. I pulled my knit cap over my head, and drew the scarf around my throat. It was intensely cold. Up ahead, Amanda was chatting with Elizabeth. And over there was Bill and Ashton. I hadn't seen them in ages! Then Melanie passed me on the path and waved right at me, smiling. I waved abruptly and trudged on through the snow. I hoped she wouldn't notice anything different -- in my gait or my posture. No one noticed anything. I was passing for the younger Jack (at least in heavy winter clothing!)
Then I heard a cry. "Jack!"
I froze. Tania, was running up to meet me. Her long blue scarf flowed behind her. What was I to do? I couldn't run. She stopped right in front of me on the path, a big smile on her face, her breath steaming in the cold air. She looked right into my eyes. I was busted. I kept my scarf around my mouth.
"Fucking freezing out!" she said.
"Yeah!", I replied, nodding sheepishly.
"Hey did you bring your book for Skiff's class today? I left mine back at the room, and I'm never going to make it if I go all the way back."
I looked down at my empty hands. "No. I forgot everything. Totally spaced! I'm skipping class today."
Tania laughed. "You're as bad as me Jack!" She giggled. Tania lived in the room adjacent to me. If anyone was going to notice, it would be Tania. I shuffled my chilly feet, looking for some sort of reply. The she furrowed her brow. "That is so strange."
"What?"
She looked back over her shoulder. "I could have sworn I saw you down at main campus a few minutes ago."
A shudder passed through me.
"How could that be?" was all I could come up with.
"Yeah, and your car is already parked down at the Commons. What's up with that?" She looked inquisitively at me. I was quickly trying to come up with a bullshit explanation.
"Either you run faster than any human alive," Tania looked at me closely, then laughed "Or it's your doppleganger!"
My mouth was dry now. "Well, I'll have to track him down!" I said, pseudo jokingly, "Where did you see him?"
Tania gave an ironic wink. "Last seen at Kline Commons getting a coffee... But you know me. I was probably just hallucinating." She took off, back to the dorm. I looked down the snowy road, towards Main Campus. "If you see him, give him a hug for me!" Tania yelled.
I stood there for a moment, trying to process this insane new reality. A flood of emotions passed through me. Anticipation, nervousness, fear, excitement. What if it didn't work out? What if I was terribly wrong about my assumptions of Jack? Then I imagined the sensation of his lips on mine, our hands intertwining as we stole a kiss behind some snowy hedge... I knew him. I knew this was going to work. I headed for Main Campus.
The breakfast scene was just as I remembered it. It was like yesterday. It was weird -- a world of college students -- with no iPhones or iPads or blackberries. I was tempted to get my bagel and Capn' Crunch and sit with the gang. Nostalgia filled every crevice. But I paused, remembering that I was on a quest... a hunt. And yet I was starving (and still a little drunk), so I went up to the counter and filled a plate with eggs and sausage. And there he was.
My younger self was five people ahead of me in line. My heart leaped. He must have left his coat at the table, because he was wearing a bright orange T-shirt and tight black jeans. And he was in true form. Those lovely arms, that slender back. I was mentally undressing myself from ten feet away. He looked lonely and pensive as he carried his tray back to his table. I followed, a safe distance behind, still in hat and scarf.
A whole bunch of his friends were coming down the hall right toward me! Todd, Jaylene, Ray, Julie and Elizabeth... all in one pack. They stopped and chatted with my younger self, fifteen feet ahead of me. I had to take evasive action. God, he looked cute though. I noticed how everyone was one happy gang. The group laughed. Aside from his undiscovered sexual self, Jack was a well adjusted, respected part of the campus community. Was I doing the right thing? Was I about to disrupt the life of an innocent young guy and throw everything into chaos? I wanted to awaken him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to help him discover himself earlier in life, and spare him the years of repression and denial. But what if there were unexpected consequences? My motives weren't absolutely pure either.
The group waved to Jack and continued right towards me. I was a deer in the headlights. Fumbling with my breakfast tray I tugged my hat over my face. I walked over to the wall and stared at my feet. The group, chattering amongst themselves, somehow, miraculously, walked right past me without noticing. That was too close a call. I looked up. And there was Jack, waving back to his friends. His captivating smile. His big blue green eyes. His gaze passed over me. I turned my head and looked out the window, just in time. Had he seen me? A passel of students passed between us, and I slipped away.
Professor Skiff's class was about to start. I felt like a stalker, following myself to class. I also felt like an impostor, here to mess with my destiny. I didn't even know the way back to the present. Or if there even was a way back. So here I was, stuck in 1985, in someone else's clothes. No money. No I.D. No choice but to go forward with the plan.
My younger self was in the second row, just as I remembered. I got a pretty good grade in Skiff's class on quantum theory. There were no flasks, no frogs. It was strictly rocks for jocks, or in this case, science for stoners. I watched through the snow and ivy covered window. Skiff gesticulated wildly, his words flowing from behind that massive beard. He filled the blackboard with theorems and graphs, and squiggly arrows all pointing down some funnel. I remember this very class! He was postulating on the notion that one could travel through time. All you had to do was exceed the speed of light, and bend space, while passing through an impossibly small dimensional keyhole. It was all "theoretically possible"; his favorite phrase. I giggled to myself, thinking how I had just manifested a theory into reality.
