Elizabeth Louise Pratt was beautiful. With grace, I hope she still is.
When I say she was beautiful, I dont think I can exagerate. This is not a case of me looking backward with wistful eyes. No, at 17 I knew she was beautiful and sexy, wonderfully tasty and marvelous.
And she loved me.
This beautiful 15 year old girl/woman loved me and I was and still am stunned.
Let me digress a moment. Although Im certain to delve into my psychological makeup as this unfolds, I think I can focus on this extraodinary good fortune by explaining my view of myself, then, if not now.
I dont know if I had much sense of myself. I knew that my saving grace was my intelligence. I could talk a good talk. I faced the bullshit and it was me.
Physically, I dont have any recollectiion thinking of myself as handsome or sexy or strong. I thought of myself as boy or perhaps a young man, but not a man.
So why would a beautiful (and as it would turn out) intelligent girl love me?
I dont know. But she changed my life. She gave herself to me (to ME!!). She changed my image of myself in a very fundamental way. No, I didnt suddently start thinking of myself as handsome or sexy or strong, but something more fundamental. I was something to be desired and chosen and worthy of gift of anothers virginity.
The blood of her maidenhead made me powerful and loved.
Posted March 25, 2004
Found on the internet as I was looking for some trace of Liz. Embrodered by another Elizabeth Pratt a century and a half ago.
And below is a lovely poem by yet another Elizabeth Pratt.
I have cherished all my memories of you and will always love the madman that you were. I hope this finds you happy with your life. I've saved every bittersweet dream and keep them in my heart, safe for all time.
To my crazy, wonderful, first lover, I'll never forget you and all that we were.
An excerpt of my reply:
"When I received your reply I was overwhelmed by my emotions. I cried and laughed, smiled and exhaled with relief and joy.
"It has taken me a week to settle my thoughts and emotions. I want you to know that I very much appreciate your reply. For years I thought about you - to tell you how much you have meant to me. Although I never gave up hope of hearing from you, I will admit to being discouraged.
"So many emotions.
Last weekend I closed a play that I directed and produced. Closing a play is often bitter-sweet. Coupled with your reply, I was a whirlwind of feelings. And it was good."