The one that got away, your first love, your true love, Prince(ss) Charming. If you date, then you have one who fits those monikers. Mine involved a passionate love affair when 19, and agreement that when he moved out of state then that would be the end. At the time I thought the best I could do, the most respectful thing, was to honor that agreement. It's now X years later, we still communicate and sporadically see each other. He is still the one I love, the one in the forefront of my brain, and heart, when thinking of love. There is still connection, a feeling of loving acceptance combined with joie de vivre and intellectual stimulation, my confidant in all matters but one.
Since that fateful decision, we've both moved on with our lives, leading wonderful fulfilling existences, pursuing our interests which never seem to sync, or to facilitate co-existence. I look forward to our time together with girlishly gleeful enthusiasm and longing, then feel the deep sorrow of loss each time we part. Our time, my memories, are bittersweet. Despite all that's passed between us, I secretly harbor the hope that, at some point in the future, we will be free to be with each other for the progression of our days.
And yet, after our most recent escape, I find myself doubting, losing that hope. I find myself in mourning, not for what could have been, but for the possibility. Rather, the loss of possibility....
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