I had dinner with a former "boyfriend" from high school recently. We had not really spoken to each other since we "broke up" save a meager greeting at our ten year reunion and a less meager one last January at a memorial gathering, where we exchanged pleasantries but not much more.
In high school, we were very close. I fell in love, he broke my heart, yada yada yada, not that original a story. We ended badly and never made amends. We took separate paths and after (a long) time, he drifted from my mind/heart in the natural way. When we were close, I felt a strong attachment to him, a deep emotional connection, common bond, mutual interests, care and concern, etc. in the same way I (still) care deeply about my more recent "lost loves."
I was surprised but excited by his invitation, and I didn't know what to expect or feel, but I was open to renewing a friendship and at least reminiscing. I remember the good parts of our relationship more than the bad...really there wasn't "bad" except that it ended before I wanted it too.
So we met up, had dinner, a few laughs, and it was overall a pleasant night out exchanging stories and catching up about our lives.
...and that was it. Those deep emotions I used to have, the feeling we had a bond, connection, a "string" between us, if you will, was gone. It was like I met a new person and we were becoming acquainted. I sensed no sparkle of attraction, no real desire to keep in touch (though it was a pleasant enough evening), and I imagine the same on his end. In fact, he seemed to me a completely different person, one I would not likely choose to be involved with.
This makes me unbelievably sad. To think that in ten years I could have dinner with my more recently lost partners, friends, and loves, and not still feel some connection to them, well, it breaks my heart in a way that just losing the relationships we had doesn't. I feel a need to hold on to the strings that connect us, even while I can feel them drifting further away, and letting go of their sides of the strings.
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3 comments:
Oh darlin'! You should not be sad about this. There are two very important points that you are missing that are allowing you to be sad here. The first is more obvious: age. People change throughout their lives, sometimes becoming entirely different people, yes, but that hardly ever happens to someone outside of their teenage years. Common psychology suggests that we settle into our true selves somewhere around the age of 22, our personalities largely cement so that we don't have to cope with the shifting sands of inner turmoil when we set our sights out on establishing a mark on the world. The fact that this guy whose heart you knew deeply when you were both 16-17, is now drastically different is neither surprising nor unreasonable. But most of all, bringing me to my second point, it is irrelevant. Your attachment to him was never actually to HIM. And neither is your attachment to any of your loves. It's easy to believe otherwise, I know. But really we all create little clay models of others inside ourselves and put those models nearer or farther away from our heart depending on how nice a fit they are. The perspicacious lover will constantly re-mold their clay model to fit the real thing, and that re-molding also re-molds your own heart, depending how close it sits. But in absence the clay model stays constant, static. And your love for it can last forever, but it does not reflect the real thing. All we know is a collection of memories, and even our love is not given to a person, but to what that person just was, just when they brushed your cheek just now, or just when they gave you that delightful present. That person a second ago is who you love now, and though it is wonderful to know that the person standing before you is ALMOST exactly the same, he is not entirely so and won't be until he shows you what else he has just become. It's an endless cycle of refreshing and growing, and it's a beautiful part of nature. It's how our interdependence on others makes us stronger instead of stagnant.
Wow, Millsey! What beautiful words and insights! I wasn't even going to comment on this because I had no words of wisdom to share. I'm glad you did! :D
Thanks, Mills. This comment, and some of our conversation Saturday really went a long way for me feeling a lot better about loss, both in these specific cases and in general. I'm fortunate to count you as a friend. <3
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