Prurient mad crush for Miss Rainbow...my prepubescent infatuation heavily fictionalized...

versus a considerably more sedate ho hum boy's life if Norman Rockwell painted a denuded picture of mein kampf devoid of nothing but innocent board games played out on the chessboard of life.
A smidgen (which vague term would only include single digit numbers greater than zero similar in meaning to tad) more than threescore and fifteen plus years ago, this then sixth grader (at Henry Kline Boyer Elementary School located in Evansburg, Pennsylvania) underwent a visible uber transformation. As a socially outcast character from Poker Flat (podcasts, instagram, facebook... nor other social media yet to be invented or conceived), painfully shy, tremendously withdrawn prepubescent, my existence practically invisible.
Yours truly never sought out to bolster any reign dear team, nor tail feathers of mine stroked as the teachers’ pet, nevertheless I figuratively donned an invisible cloak. In essence, I played a constant metaphorical game of dodgeball, whence the vulcanized hard rubber sphere representative of my microcosm. At every possible chance, a deliberate avoidance strategy undertaken to minimize contact with people. Even looking at a pretty girl (methinks her first name Renee) while nervously nibbling at lunch (about four years before this vignette recounted with prevarication while in second grade at Eagleville (no recall regarding menu) prior to drama described as topic de jure here, but that quick flashback time attending latter half of second grade at Eagleville found me blushing like a zebra, when said pretty lass unwittingly looked in one direction that pointed straight into these then bespectacled brown eyes.
Anyway, an emotionally cloistered existence begat physical aspect of withdrawing from world wide web (which safe near home base encompassed scant few mile radius), where 324 Level Road constituted the external trappings of being inside the womb.
Subsequently, an angst-riddled psyche in tangent with negative cosine followed me upon promotion from one grade to the next (dogged by a near catatonic mewling state), in tandem with a strong aversion to assume the mantle of greater demands.
Even the charming, fawning, illuminating Miss (Rita) Rinderle (a young recent teacher, now probably married and possibly a grandmother) at above mentioned quaint one class per grade primary school seemed stymied to affect enthusiasm. At some juncture (perhaps before September 1970 came to an end prior to exiting ramp leading to boulevard of broken dreams), a substitute or rather assistant instructor accompanied thee note worthily ogling, praiseworthy, quintessentially ravishing singular (though engaged to be married) Rita unknowingly provoked mine little meter made petty fleshy peppy nearly scaring the pants off... guess who?
Thee colorful student teacher (whose first name never told – or more likely long since forgotten) took partial charge regarding the spectrum of daily lessons. She possessed a magic touch. Under her fertile, gentle, and humble, tutelage, a budding charm easily dredged enthusiasm for grappling wholeheartedly with most every private lesson. Though she happened to be a novitiate (and freshly minted graduate), I silently bowed in acquiescence when Miss Rainbow got handed the reins during her brief reign, which stint lasted for the entire year. Her colorful presence aroused, enamored, and inspired latent ambition to awake from dormant hermetically sealed emotional state. Thru a combination of affinity, celerity, and energy, I sought to shine forth with utmost academic alacrity! Despite a moderate chronological age difference by the then standards of the day, that particular block of time in the life of Matthew Scott Harris witnessed an amorously childlike, expressly glowing, infectiously kindled misty, officially subconscious prurient quivering sensations/good vibrations mini me experienced, while just on the cusp of adolescence. I undoubtedly, unconsciously, unbelievably, et cetera felt lyft of unbridled arousal, which hot headed feeling did boost the ordinary mainly melancholy, morose moody blue foo fighter beastie boy atavistic twitch. Perchance this biological transformation witnessed and/or discerned by other classmates), a repressed sexually amorous, romantically breathtaking, quixotically captivating, et cetera amorphous desire. An inchoate nebulous said physical attraction permeated my puny being (in league with natural bubbling effervescent testosterone) teaming subconsciously reprehensibly to my childish self, thee strawberry blonde, shapely, and seductive Miss Rainbow made no discerning overt nor covert overtures to mine introverted naively innocent unpracticed perception all la Sikh sense.
Nonetheless, a muted kaleidoscope of brilliance drenched embarrassing feral hunger well nigh inadvertently loosened itself courtesy padlocked, linch pinned, hidebound unhealthy restraint.
Narcotic restoppering, rioting, rutting... testosterone voiced nonverbal physiological ecstasy beckoned freedom from bottled genie us state. Even while being pathetically passive, (née painstakingly shy) at that age, what about eleven/ twelve birthdays celebrated, the primal urge incipient sexual desire became sublimated, suggestively classically Freudian actions to suit up in preparation for short-lived exertion to exceed (barely) prior scholastically abysmal performance.
Such dawning retrospective revelation only shone forth many (at least five) decades later upon the onset of body wracking, handy dandy, randy candy... when irrepressible libidinal natural exploration did peter out at thee unhealed, beau jangled principled... age of late forty/early fifty something years young, which haint nothing to celibate!
Linkedin within corporeal subconscious circumscribed viz prepuce nutshell (pun intended) ever so
faint quivering stirred primal, infantile, beastial, animal... penile propensities, whereat Whatsapp hormonally pining jump/kickstarted fruit of (heirloom) loins a subtle pang to consummate conjugated concupiscence jarring me ordinarily sidelined, squelched, subdued... to hide and seek at least a kiss qua sexual satiation that shocked the monkey.
Oh... if able, eager, and willing to communicate on behalf of that agonizingly bashful boy, this now doddering, kibitzing, uber vibrant wily coyote would revisit said puberty (mine), and double dare expressing (applying best Peterson handwriting style) coy late childhood wish to be adopted by referenced gal approximately twice plus my then the first double digit prime chronologically age, though she exhibited countless light years more mature than aforementioned lad i.e. yours truly approximately two point seven five scored orbitz (of planet earth around sun) ago.
Retrospective imaginary trek back would relive, rejigger, and refashion blockchain of events altering the course of events, when mad crush begat attraction toward Miss Rainbow, a more courageous effort forged..., cuz this amazingly graceful fantastical kid would have exhibited braggadocio sophistication beyond post January thirteenth birthday delineating his twelfth circuit circumnavigating our near nearest prodigal sun hinted at being future ladies man.
Handwritten illegible notes, (perhaps merely few choice words punctuated with crude drawings) under_scored mutual (of Oh ma ha) pinterest alluding to evanescent ethereal darling classroom assistant aforementioned above. She and I would have arranged various and sundry rendezvous. Nobody blew figurative whistle penalizing predilection deemed predatory. Love can and ought to blossom buzzfeeding fancy feast feral gourmand whenever possible. Hence the apropos refrain gather ye rosebuds while ye may.
Hypothetically advanced remarkable metamorphosis into premature physical development showed thyself (make believe scenario) more strapping young man than actual skinny, puny and bony runt. Some just invited gentle caresses without drawing long strong arm attention of principled lawmakers. They (yes, thee amorphous, illustrious, nebulous... trumpeting dons) unfairly punish liaisons involving (even consensual) so called jailbait. Eighteen, the arbitrary age verboten illicit tactile considered in apropos.
Discrete (William will never tell) overtures conveying amorousness, (albeit on the q.t., an abbreviation for “quiet,” first recorded in 1884) awakened electrified joie de vivre, whenever in presence of averred heroine. An infantile pang evoked atavistic impulse convulsed every nerve fiber housed within this then tweener. He wanted to suckle like a babe nursing much like iconic Madonna and child images predominant in churches. Akin to a newborn, I (no matter an underage cupid little fella – no bars held back comprising fictional vignette) applied gentle suction upon first one than the other nipple and also began to describe circular motions atop those supposedly sensitive aureoles of each breast tricking grand teat tons to dribble milk of human kindness. Optimism existed to draw out coveted milky white substance ranks on par with questing after sought after illegal contraband. Deep in throes of aural, tactile, visual,... exploration, these ears detected purring.
Precocious flair with English language (given scant decade plus of generally struggling yet quick to learn student) set in motion intuitive sense this unusual friendship one stepping stone away from elusive ticketed rock of ages paradise. As time permitted, I quickly learned tapping into contemplative, introspective, ruminative... tentative sixth grader adult oriented x-rated indulgences. In essence, the effort to surrender and succumb into grownup passion overlayed any disparity, particularly statutory rape, which essentially increased excitement manifold. This overactive imagination of mine invigorated illusory fantasy reminding this curmudgeon word smith tis only young and restless ones, who unfairly get forced to abrogate arbitrary societal prohibitions experiencing metaphor for sex or wooing here, for plucking the flower and enjoying it while it's still in the bloom of youth.
Accursed friggin developmental delay fueled unrequited love, and/or cringing when tingling triggered infatuation. Untested limitless possibilities (thank you most kindly risk averse self) quashed potential platonic relationships, (not necessarily with older women purse say), but ordinary discover re: visa vis constituting healthy positive growth encompassing body, mind, and spirit triage. The medium of writing fictional scenarios alleviates (as grudgingly acceptable palliative) loss among cumulative lifetime interpersonal adventures.