The Three Signs - Book 1 - Cathy
Copyright© 2014 by William Turney Morris
Chapter 38: Epilogue
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 38: Epilogue - Ahh, Cathy Parsons. There is always something special about someone's first love; and if it is the first love for both people, then there's that joy of discovery, learning about love and sex, and the heartbreak that comes with the mistakes you will both make.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Teenagers Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Oral Sex Anal Sex Masturbation Petting Water Sports Slow
Cathy’s News
Monday Morning, June 21, 1976
Monday morning was dismal, pouring with rain, and I was waiting to hear from Cathy. She should have arrived home last night, and I thought she would have called me then. Maybe she got in late, and was tired, I told myself. By mid-morning, I hadn’t heard anything, and I was going to call her, when I saw the mail arrive. There was a break in the persistent rain, so I walked down to the letter box to see what had arrived. There was a letter for me; in Cathy’s writing, postmarked from Wednesday. I would have expected it to have arrived on Friday, if she had mailed it in the Wednesday.
I opened the letter, and read what she had written:
Will,
I’m hoping this will arrive before the weekend, so you can make alternative arrangements for the university vacation. I won’t be coming up to Sydney for the next few weeks, there’s far too much going on here for me to miss. I’ve been trying to work out how to tell you this for a while, but I think we should stop seeing each other. Not that we actually see each other anymore, but you know what I mean, it’s time to call an end our relationship.
We’ve become quite different people; with very different goals in life. We aren’t the same teenage kids that we were three years ago, or even nine months ago. You seem quite happy to continue on in your comfortable middle class life, playing the same music, doing the same things. I mean, you haven’t even taken the opportunity to broaden your experience and move into the inner city, but you still live at home, safe in the ‘insular peninsula’. There’s so much more to life that you need to experience, to give you a greater perspective.
I need someone who understands my need to continue fighting the struggle for the working classes, who isn’t part of the establishment, and who’s just as committed as I am to see social justice in this country.
The times we had together, the experiences we shared, I will always treasure them, but it’s time for me to move on. I trust you will understand; you have to know that there is someone else who is the right person for you.
You will always be special in my heart, and I thank you for being my friend for the last six and a half years.
Goodbye, my friend.
Cathy
I had to read it through twice to understand exactly what she was telling me. I almost laughed at the words “struggle for the working classes”; Cathy had never had to struggle in her life, and she was just as much a part of the ‘establishment’ as I was. I can’t say I was very surprised at how things had turned out between the two of us; thinking about it, this was coming for quite a while. Still, it still didn’t make things easier, first Megan, and now Cathy leaving me.
And Dream of You
Monday Morning, June 21, 1976
I folded up Cathy’s letter, and put in on the kitchen counter. I walked into the lounge room, and looked out the window at the grey skies and pouring rain. A fragment of a tune crossed my lips:
And when the rain
Beats against my window pane
I’ll think of summer days again
And dream of you
Those were the words of that song I sung several times; the song that Megan said was me expressing my subconscious thoughts about my relationship with Cathy. I denied it, of course, but she was right – she always was. This time, I wasn’t upset; I guess I knew this breakup was coming, probably since she moved to Canberra. I thought about my Father’s advice – the three signs of love. Maybe, because I wasn’t feeling that same heartbreak, the same sense of devastation; Cathy and I weren’t really in love?
I pulled one of the chairs around to face the window, and sat down in it. I felt that I had certainly learned a lot about myself, about love and relationships. Did I regret having the relationship with Cathy? Fuck no! Would I have done things differently? Maybe I could have called things off back in February; we both knew what was going to happen between us, we were just not prepared to admit it to each other. It did do wonders for my self-confidence though, not to mention the massive amounts of sex the two of us had over the summer months.
