“And where do we go from here? Which is the way that’s clear?”

BAM! She was there…I mean right in front of me...Right the f*ck in front of me! Thirty lost years became thirty seconds, and it seemed like…like the best of all that ever was between us suddenly cascaded in a near-orgasmic blast of overpowering white heat; and all those foolish concerns that separated us years ago became the dust they should have always been. Thirty years became a body-shaking need for so much more.

I don’t know if I attended the event hoping that “something” would happen or dreading the thought that something wouldn’t…I mean, I knew she’d be there – it was HER event after all; circumstances presented an “invitation” I would never, could never have refused. There truly was nowhere else I COULD be that day. She and her family have always meant the world to me…and good Lord, she was every bit as beautiful as she'd ever been. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I doubt she realized the number of times I looked over, just taking her in.

The passing years had been her friend. Her eyes now showed me a world I wished so desperately I’d been there to share…and smile lines I could only hope our history had some part in. We’d done more than our share of laughing, after all…that “hearty bray” of laughter I’d loved so much just exploding as it always had; like music I’d missed without realizing it. A laughing woman has always been my undoing…

The evening became one of clandestine conversation and a few (very few and entirely unexpected) stolen kisses - a connection that refused to be denied – as vital as breathing. We reminisced; recounting our shared experiences – with an unspoken regret that there were not more of them; of our lost or perhaps merely misplaced chance for love; of the obstacles removing the hope of any shared future. Ours is a relationship most consider “meant to be” but sadly one that all too likely may never find a way to flourish.

I have a vague recollection of crossing paths quite unexpectedly decades ago at some now forgotten location and giving her my phone number, asking that she call me (“We HAVE to get together”). It was clear we shared a mutual interest in exploring the possibilities of a more serious relationship. I visited her on the seacoast of Maine once and despite a “you can’t stay over” mandate, packed a change of clothes and a toothbrush. She later laughed that beautiful and booming laugh, telling me that that action was “very impressive”. We attended a concert or two together and spent quite a memorable night at my apartment; one that I don’t think was ever, or frankly could ever be matched. Nights with her were like that.

It’s difficult to recall what happened to foster our lengthy disconnection. It may have been as simple as a series of unfortunate missteps or miscommunications; an unforeseen consequence of poor timing; a cluster of unexpected circumstances that demanded our energy. Who can say? In my memory, it was always a relationship that stopped, rather than ended and therein lay the sadness. Suddenly, she was just….gone…

Reflectively,
Otto

Blog Song: Norah Jones: Come Away With Me