what makes me want to reach out to her...?
Well, I met her when I was 18 years old, she was 17. We both worked in a restaurant, she was a waitress and I was a dishwasher. We always had this sort of chemistry and she had a giant crush on me. I was tired of washing dishes so I threatened to quit if they didn't move me up to the front of the house. I figured I was good looking, witty, and I could make more money with tips. And I *really* fucking hated washing dishes.
We couldn't get together initially because I was smitten by another girl who was the punk-rocker type. She had tattoos, could make me laugh, was wild. My CS was more the shy-innocent type with the pretty eyes and deceptively awesome body. The punk chick relationship was going on for about a year and ended with my 2nd teenage heartbreak and somewhere between wallowing and recovery my CS and I hit it off.
I guess when I explain it in the short form, it doesn't sound very magical but we had this amazing chemistry. Not to mention there was months of build-up whether it was exchanging flirtatious glances or brushing up against each other on accident as we reached for a main dish or appetizer to run out to the customers. We would talk throughout the day about life, or nothing, and into the night as we closed up.
I'm pretty sure I was her first real boyfriend, her first kiss. We didn't stay together very long if my memory serves me correctly. She was a virgin and at that point in time I was a hardcore party animal living with 5 roommates (two couples) in what was most certainly a very unhealthy revolving door of drinking, drugs, and a damn good time.
She was very clingy, I thought, and I just wanted to hang out with friends and go out. Something also didn't sit right with me that she was a virgin, I felt too guilty to take her innocence away. Sounds retarded now, but honestly I don't think I was patient enough to wait for her after I'd been in all these relationships that were very sexual.
I broke up, crushed her heart, and we moved on. I did it in a bad way, I strung her along for a time and stopped talking to her and inviting her over as much. I don't actually remember how I did it, it was probably over the phone knowing me -- classic dick move.
Fast forward a couple of years when she is 20-21 and we cross paths again, only this time she's a woman. I remember our first time together very vividly, because this window when we got back together yet again was honestly the best moments of my life. She lived in a beach-side apartment with a wealthy roomate and we could walk out on the balcony and see the ocean. Everything during that phase was romantic, sensual, whimsical, and care-free.
When I think back on it, we always tried to get back to this era in our lives. We always talked about getting back to living beach side, but we never quite could. Our souls yearned for the water. In fact, when we moved to this New City it was very important we were close to the beach...but we never even went together, not once. We bought bicycles to go out, we rode them once. The apartment is a 5-10 minute bike ride from the beach.
This is getting long and there's so much more to tell.
To summarize we had 5 years of an on-again-off-again relationship. Long timelines where we were apart and grew, then I went into the military and reached out to her. She still resented me for not being able to commit during our beach-era but I made a 10-hour drive and went way out of bounds from my military base to tell her it was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life and that I still loved her. Amazingly she took me back. We got back together in 2010-11 --I was mature enough by that point to know what I wanted-- she stuck it out with me long-distance until I got out of the military in 2013 and we dated and made great fun of the $50k I'd saved up, got married in '15, bought a house, moved to New City in Aug of '17 and here I am as the fucking mess you see me now.
What makes me want to reach out to her? I'll always love her. She was my first "real" love and we have a very storied history that runs deep. I made her my everything, but I also let it fizzle and we sedated each other. We dreamt of making it back to beach side living but we could never quite get there.
Do you know what I thought last night? I honestly think that this is some sort of... destiny. I'm a hopeless romantic, I'm at my best when I'm at my worst. I'm most creative when I'm alone and loathing and I've always wanted to make my mark in the world by writing a novel but I never pursued it. She always wanted the nice house, fancy things, to travel and explore and be spontaneous... but that's not something I could wholesomely give her financially. I think it might play out like this; I was guiding her towards this OM who comes from a rich family and she's going to get pregnant and have the life she always wanted--it just won't be with me. In the process, she is the muse that will inspire what will likely be my most self-gratifying and life-fulfilling ambition in completing a novel. It's poetic in a way, or at least I'd like to think so.
Sorry for the wall of text, I'm feeling reflective today.
[This message edited by Ithasfeels at 9:30 AM, November 5th (Sunday)]