Five

I admit it. I am a hurricane addict. Going back to Hurricane Agnes, in June, 1972, a storm which changed the landscape of the entire Northeast, I have adored hurricanes, at least in part because nothing I've ever cared about has been destroyed by one. Where I live now, it ain't gonna happen now, either.

Katrina is one of a rare breed: a category-five hurricane.

Five.

I dated a woman in college named Katrina. Briefly. She was a category-five bitch, too.

Mainly, though, I have been thinking about the past. Not about storms and rain, but about my favorite topic: women.

Stormy women, some. Sweet, gentle women, some. Past women, all.

I remember everything, even if they don't. I so... remember. I want to remember them. All. Everything.

Martha -- the real Martha, not Martha in San Francisco -- I remember you taking my hand as we drove to the greenhouse in the mountains to pick up new orchids to grace your office. I remember you taking my hand to dance in your living room, gently and sweetly. I remember your wonderful bed and your wonderful self in it.

Denise, I remember your tall, elusive elegance in the Great Hall at the Kennedy Center, you... the most beautiful woman I ever knew, in black and white and red. I adored you that night.

Terri, the night we were in the cab coming back from Angelo & Maxie's in Chelsea, you in the black dress and settled with your your soft and satisfied way.

Niki, I will never forget New Year's surrounded by people we'll never know, just throwing caution to the winds. I still recall your taste on my lips, and I still have your panties.

Belinda, to dance with you as the blizzard fell on Society Hill, 24 stories below, Paul Desmond playing in the night as you took me in hand. Your hands cool and gentle.

Jill Beckwith, I have never forgotten you, singing Rossini to me in those strange acoustics in the upper level of Midtown Plaza in Rochester in 1985. How I wish I had known you better.

Claire, with you, I've adored Boston as with no one else. I would have followed you anywhere.

Sarah, the first Sarah, somehow that fall of 1985 was tolerable with or without the love-bugs in the Florida Panhandle. It's OK if you didn't like Bruce Springsteen's "I'm On Fire."

Janice, we had a threadbare summer in Maine, but I loved being with you. You were my twin.

Barb, you had gorgeous legs and a sexy way about you. Running your calf up my leg set off all sorts of lightning.

Iva, you showed me a gentle side that no one else has ever even hinted at, and I wish I knew where you are now.

Julie Dorsey, I wanted so much to program an iPod for you. You were so sad and so scared.

Doris -- Bunny Rabbit -- you know why I mention you here. You knew me from before... everything. You meant something special to me.

Fiona, your severe intensity unlocked something in me I've not known since. You were my equal in ways no one has been since. You fought me, I fought you, neither of us knew surrender until it happened.

Penny, you were just incredible, I could fly with you. I could help you fly. I have never known a woman so intense as you. I always wondered if I could make you come just by looking at you. How hilarious it was when you and I were walking up the boardwalk in Ocean City, and we caught a whiff of ourselves after eating endless crabs all night...

Heather, you were so genuine. I never knew until it was too late.

Sarah, the new Sarah, yes, I adored giving you the longest orgasm of your life.

Mary, you were so aroused by thunderstorms!

Pam Perkins, yes, I fucked you senseless because you told me to come over and do so!

Betsy, I felt everything so strongly with you... I remember the night we all stood crying in Lake Ontario. I miss everyone.

But...

Melody.

Watching you watching the otters at the aquarium in Monterey.

Watching you dance with Russ in Las Vegas that June.

Taking care of me when I was so sick.

You, that night in Monterey, extending that gorgeous calf so slowly, so elegantly, so I could undo the buckle on your pumps.

How you were so gentle and trusting with me as I made a game attempt to waltz at the Ball on the hottest night of the spring. How patient you were with me...

You were there when I lost my best friend in the entire world.

You were the only one I truly showed where I came from.

You will never really understand.

I am here.