Oh how I truly miss this guy, D -- met him in college and he was from the U.S. Met him through a common friend. That was June 25, xxxx. He was from an exclusive, all-boys' school, and was a few years older than me, very good looking, and also very youthful looking. He was about 6 or 7 years older than I was.
We had a brief encounter while he vacationed in the city where I lived, but I was young and carefree and wanted to meet more people, so after a few months of writing letters and exchanging adventures and misadventures overseas, I broke off my friendship with him when he moved back to the States.
Now I regret having done that. We wrote and exchanged letters for the most part, but eventually, the long-distance love affair succumbed.
I searched him up in Facebook one shitty day, -- the devil made me do it -- and there he was --- still as yummy as ever. He is married too, and I guess he has kids like I do. Searched his wife, and being the stalker that I am, found her too. I don't think she came from the same high school I went to. The closest I could ever be to this dream boy is thru -- First: one common contact in Facebook. Two: his sister is a friend of this common facebook contact I mentioned above, plus a cousin-in-law of mine (oh hell! of all peeps). Third: his nephew is a friend of one of my students (now that's interesting!). Just a little tough luck, I guess. Not that I want to see him again, but just thinking of the moments I spent with him many years ago is enough to fuel me. To what? Well, I dunno. Just sayin', just sayin'... :) In my dream, I remember stroking his arm, remarking how much darker his skin tone has become, because of golf.
I do journaling and have kept 20+ volumes of them since the late 80's, and now I am tempted to read the old entries I wrote about him. I still remember how he smelled like... Sooo good... He always smelled like fresh linen... Always well-groomed, and his manner of taking care of me was unforgettable... He treated me like I was the most precious lady ever. Well that was how I felt, so I don't really want to think deep if he was honest with me then. All I know was, whatever we had back then was something I treasured a lot. A damn, damn, lot.
He told me he had a Vietnamese girlfriend in the States. I still remember how she looked, wearing that flowery, tube dress in the photo he showed me of her. She looked petite, and according to him, she cooked well. But hell I didn't care at all. He said they weren't getting along anymore. All I wanted was him. And yes, I leeched his photo from his Facebook profile. I don't even care if he stumbles upon this blog and remembers who the hell I was in his younger life. If he remembers --- good. If not, then let me remain faceless, and nameless to him... It would probably be better this way.
When I look back at the days I spent during my youth, I always feel a pang of regret... I believe I wasted so many years of my life not choosing the right man to be with for the rest of my life...
I went out with a great many guys -- and yet I chose my husband. I want to knock the hell out of me for choosing this guy; sadly, when I think of doing that, I remember I have kids to live for...
I distinctly remember the night this old boy friend of mine, D, left for the States. I was crying 'til I felt and looked like a limp ragdoll, and stayed on the street until the car he drove was out of view. That was the evening of Aug. 25, xxxx. I really fell for him. But for some reason, when I started gathering my senses back, I figured there were so many guys out there waiting for me. So stupid as I was, I wrote him a letter and broke my friendship with him.
Again, looking back, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have closed my doors on him. Ohhh, stupid, foolish, crazy me... Now I only have the memories to look back on. I can still remember how we met, and how shamelessly I gave him a copy of my singing voice -- strumming my lungs out to some mushy love songs of old. That was surely one shameless plug, heeehaaaa. I bet you, I wasn't thinking well back then... I sent him a letter -- with photos of how my day went on a daily basis -- waking up, going to school, dressing up, etcetera, getting ready for bed -- the works, and made it into sort of a scrapbook. I couldn't believe I had the energy and commitment to make that project for him. Really, if this guy went on to become my boyfriend for long, I would have probably given him my virginity. Regretfully, I gave it to the man I am married to now.
I was so young then... A quiet, college student... So unassuming and all... I miss this guy... Perhaps my dream resurrected all my old feelings for him. Or not at all; perhaps it's the way my dream has presented itself in my subconscious that makes me think so. And I feel thankful that I have this blog to make into a sounding board of all my innermost demons and darkest desires.
Oh I am an aging wife and mother... And the world keeps on spinning and moving on without me at the helm... I wish I could bring back time...
I would do anything to be young again.
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