Fading Fast

Thursday came and went. I had visions that I would be late because I am always late. I would walk in and see him sitting there. He would get up, give me a cold, courtesy hug and we would sit down and chat awkwardly. I would tell him what I had to tell him. We would eat or have a drink or whatever and then it would be done. My expectations were low. I would tell him I love him and  that I'm sorry. If he chews my ass, I will let him. I'll thank him for coming and tell him I love him anyway. I'm probably going to hell but this way, I will have made my peace. Get in, get out, get it over with.

It didn't quite go that way.
First disaster: I was on time.
Second, he wasn't. Actually, he was waiting for me in a different location, so he was on time but elsewhere. I thought for sure he wasn't going to show. 10 minutes in, I took my last shot. "I'm here."
"So am I"
I look around and I am one of five people and nobody resembles him. And then he walks in. The ground drops out and I am hurtling down the mountain at 90 mph.

He's older, but attractive in a distinguished sort of way. He wore a pink buttoned shirt that reminded me of the pink Izod he used to wear back in High School. He always looked good in Pink. He was normal. Dressed for work, he looked sharp but not flashy and not overdoing it. He wore glasses. He still has plenty of hair and was innocuously handsome. I looked in his eyes, and there he was: the 17 year-old boy I fell in love with 30+ years ago.... and he was looking right back at me.

Despite years of testing my flight or fight response in skiing, river running and ER nursing, mine was  in overdrive. In ER nursing, we have algorithms so that when the moment starts to test your resolve and disconnect your ability to critically think under pressure, you can refer to something simple like the ABC's: Airway, Breathing, Circulation. I worked hard to breathe and I could feel my heart beat out of my chest at somewhere between 110 and 120 beats per minute. I thanked the universe that I didn't have to save anybody's life. I felt my own in the balance.

These are the pivotal moments in life. This is when you ask yourself what is really important about this, and this I've had some practice with. I can't change anyone that doesn't want to change or who is not open to an experience however uncomfortable. If this was going to go badly, it was not because I was going to let him get under my skin. I had a job to do and that job was REALLY important to my self-preservation and how I would face my end. I was focused. We made some small talk but it was obvious that he was wondering why are you here, what's this all about, why today. I told him I didn't have any adult children to present him with, nor any other shocking news that would affect him or his family. I went right into what I had to say, that I was happily married with two kids, and how I have spent the last few years. Tears streamed down my face as I apologized for being awful, for being such a shrew and for missing out on a beautiful life with him. I would have married him in a new york second back in High School and with my career taking off, I didn't know how to reconcile the two. I told him about how he accompanied me over the last number of years to my darkest places and some bright ones, that the memory of him got me through some rough spots and that I just wanted to thank him for taking care of my soul while I transitioned from innocent young girl to a sexual, adult woman capable of love, happiness, and a fulfilling life.
<awkward pause>
He tried to speak. He paused. It was as if he didn't want to tell me, but I was there, and this could be the very last time I would ever see him. He shared some personal information he has not revisited in a very long time. It was nice. It was comfortable and the conversation began to roll. So what have you been doing for 30 years? Family, school, jobs, trials, tribulations, and so on went the small talk. Breathing became easier, my pulse came down and it appeared that neither fight nor flight would be necessary. It was a nice reprieve from my emotionally charged agenda. Time passed easily. He spoke fondly and lovingly of his wife which reinforced his decency. He was not unlike the boy I knew so many years ago. His mannerisms had not changed. The way he smiled, the way he put his hands up when he was nervous about the views he was expressing, his facial expressions.... all him. It was uncanny. He was visibly proud of his kids and told me a little about his job and the fact that it makes it impossible for him to participate in social media. We talked about the reunion, people we had been in touch with, people lost to illness and a series of "what ever happened to....." We realized we had just missed each other over the years. Despite trying to connect, we literally passed each other like two ships in the night. As we realized this, I thought of how the whole day's meeting began. We almost missed each other again. He was waiting outside. I was waiting inside. Had I not had the courage to text him, we might have both thought the other didn't show. It's like a 1950's movie. I can't help but wonder how many times that happened over the last 30+ years, how much I depended on external sources for information about him that was incorrect, and how it affected the choices I had made. It's crazy how we missed one another. We both have happy endings and I am relieved by that. His family seems amazing and I am so happy for him.
An hour and a half flew by. He had to return to work. The time together was pleasant and good, completely unexpected. He welcomed further contact and agreed to stay in touch. I thanked him and said goodbye. He gave me a big hug. One advantage to the double mastectomy is there is no longer anything between you and another person. It makes chest bumps really fun, but moreso, when you hug someone, you get really close to them. Needless to say, it was a good hug, one I will not forget. Ever.
I turned and walked away expecting to never see nor hear from him again. I walked proudly and lightly as if a hundred pounds had been lifted off of my shoulders and I didn't look back. I was free.
Since then, my world has opened up into this amazing place full of life, love, joy and desire. I have so many plans, excited to return to my MMA training, soccer (kids), workouts, carpools and as exhibited here: writing. The relationship with my husband appears to be even more solid and our physical desire for one another is "inspired." It's like everything is right with the world. I made great life choices in my husband, where I live, what I do, and how I do it, and I feel like it all grew out of this first relationship of love that was so healthy and rich. I want to share everything about myself with the world. Go ahead take it. Wanna stalk my FB page? Do it. Stories of my kids? Coming up. What's mine is yours. I am consumed with love and joy and peace. I haven't felt this good in YEARS. I am so glad that my friend and I connected, that his wife could operate on faith and trust, that my husband understands that cleaning my house means he lives in one, and that love doesn't just turn off. I fell in love, truly fell in love twice, with the first man I ever loved and the last one. I will love them both forever and I'm good with it.
Even if forever means only a year or so.