Tuesday, April 13, 2004
A long time ago, in a life longsince passed, I had a Very Special Boyfriend. At 17, this was a big deal, you know. Howard was not technically "my first", but that's just semantics. Emotionally speaking, he has always been "my first". I have often wondered if my lingering curiosity about his whereabouts comes from a real connection we had, or just a longing to return to the innocence we shared as a young couple. I guess everyone wonders whatever happened to their old flames. Howard had to move with his mother after the summer was over, and after he graduated, he planned on joining the Army. I recall so clearly feeling that we were meant to be together, and when he broke up with me (by LETTER, even), I was absofuckinglutely devastated. I swore to myself I'd 'never love again' and all that melodramatic bullshit that 17 year olds are so prone to. After only a few days I was seduced by another, and drowned my sorrows in his arms instead. Of course *that* didn't end well, either, but I could write all night about all the boys that broke my heart over the years.
A few years later, while away at college, I got a letter from him. Howard was in a tank on the border of Kuwait, and was writing on the night before they invaded. He had no idea what would happen, he told me, and since there was a very real chance he could die, he wanted to 'confess everything'. We had been very cautious about using the word 'love', and in fact, had never used it in connection with each other, and he had to tell me that he did, in fact, love me. That alone would have kept me giddy with joy for months to come, but he dropped another bomb that, to this day, makes me wax all melancholy for what might have been. Howard had saved his money that summer, and spent it all before he left for Basic Training on an engagement ring for me. His parents (understandably) threw a fit. They convinced him that an engagement was the wrong thing to do, and what was best was for us to go off to our respective lives (Army and college), and "if it was meant to be", we'd be together again eventually. And so he broke up with me instead.
I was furious, flattered, devastated, happy, and a million other things at once. What if... It's hard to imagine.
After he returned from the war (fortunately, Gulf I was very brief), I met him briefly when I traveled to Florida on spring break with a friend. It was awkward and weird... There was some confusion about the nature of my relationship with my traveling companion... they thought he was gay, then they must have thought he was my boyfriend. Howard was standoffish and avoided me when we went out with the collective group of his friends and my companion. I desperately wanted to get him alone, but I couldn't get him to even look me in the eye. I've never figured it out, really. He called me a few years down the line, after I was married. He might have been disappointed to find out, but he hid it well, I suppose.
I found an address for Howard through a friend with a search engine membership... I have no idea if it's accurate. I kept the address for two weeks, just looking at it, contemplating what I would say to him. I finally wrote last week. Certainly it has arrived by now. I gave a phone number, and no, he hasn't called. Pity, I suppose. The anticipation is killing me. Even if I never see him again, I have to wonder how his life turned out so far...
And on a completely unrelated note, I forgot to mention Creepy Maintenance Guy. At first glance, CMG is pretty cute, actually. As in "played by Matthew McConaughey" cute. And there's something attractive about a guy who works with his hands, a guy who fixes things... If I hadn't known better, I might have been writing about Cute Maintenance Guy. But CMG opened his mouth and became Creep Maintenance Guy. Over the course of the 2 days I was at the country club this weekend, he must have greeted me 2 dozen times with, "Therrrrre she is..." as if he had been searching for me and was relieved to find me. The first time, it was just amusing. The second and 3rd, it was weird. After a dozen or so times, I was Officially Creeped Out. His exclamation was usually accompanied by what he must've been thinking was a coy smile that said "charming country boy", but it came off more like "serial rapist". And he never fails to say it quite loudly, as if he wants everyone around to hear, so they needn't worry that he was still looking for me. Hopefully there won't be any further blogging about CMG.
A few years later, while away at college, I got a letter from him. Howard was in a tank on the border of Kuwait, and was writing on the night before they invaded. He had no idea what would happen, he told me, and since there was a very real chance he could die, he wanted to 'confess everything'. We had been very cautious about using the word 'love', and in fact, had never used it in connection with each other, and he had to tell me that he did, in fact, love me. That alone would have kept me giddy with joy for months to come, but he dropped another bomb that, to this day, makes me wax all melancholy for what might have been. Howard had saved his money that summer, and spent it all before he left for Basic Training on an engagement ring for me. His parents (understandably) threw a fit. They convinced him that an engagement was the wrong thing to do, and what was best was for us to go off to our respective lives (Army and college), and "if it was meant to be", we'd be together again eventually. And so he broke up with me instead.
I was furious, flattered, devastated, happy, and a million other things at once. What if... It's hard to imagine.
After he returned from the war (fortunately, Gulf I was very brief), I met him briefly when I traveled to Florida on spring break with a friend. It was awkward and weird... There was some confusion about the nature of my relationship with my traveling companion... they thought he was gay, then they must have thought he was my boyfriend. Howard was standoffish and avoided me when we went out with the collective group of his friends and my companion. I desperately wanted to get him alone, but I couldn't get him to even look me in the eye. I've never figured it out, really. He called me a few years down the line, after I was married. He might have been disappointed to find out, but he hid it well, I suppose.
I found an address for Howard through a friend with a search engine membership... I have no idea if it's accurate. I kept the address for two weeks, just looking at it, contemplating what I would say to him. I finally wrote last week. Certainly it has arrived by now. I gave a phone number, and no, he hasn't called. Pity, I suppose. The anticipation is killing me. Even if I never see him again, I have to wonder how his life turned out so far...
And on a completely unrelated note, I forgot to mention Creepy Maintenance Guy. At first glance, CMG is pretty cute, actually. As in "played by Matthew McConaughey" cute. And there's something attractive about a guy who works with his hands, a guy who fixes things... If I hadn't known better, I might have been writing about Cute Maintenance Guy. But CMG opened his mouth and became Creep Maintenance Guy. Over the course of the 2 days I was at the country club this weekend, he must have greeted me 2 dozen times with, "Therrrrre she is..." as if he had been searching for me and was relieved to find me. The first time, it was just amusing. The second and 3rd, it was weird. After a dozen or so times, I was Officially Creeped Out. His exclamation was usually accompanied by what he must've been thinking was a coy smile that said "charming country boy", but it came off more like "serial rapist". And he never fails to say it quite loudly, as if he wants everyone around to hear, so they needn't worry that he was still looking for me. Hopefully there won't be any further blogging about CMG.
Comments:
Post a Comment
