Long ago and far away, I was in high school. Back in the glory
“daze” of the 1980s when everything was covered in neon and Aqua Net. Mind you,
I did not have enough hair to reach the true heights of Aqua Net greatness, but
I did my best to have my very own version of helmet hair. Bless my heart.
I went to a very large high school. At the time, I
believe it was the largest high school under one roof in the state. My
graduating class had 600 people in it. When I moved to SC to start high school,
I went from a junior high in Virginia with about 150 people in each class to
this mega-school and it was a change of pace for sure.
This all being what it was, it wasn’t possible for me to know
everyone in my school. I might know OF someone or we might have friends in
common, but that didn’t mean we actually knew each other. Such is the case with
the man I was recently dating for about 8 months.
Back in the day, I knew who he was and we had mutual friends. It’s certainly possible that we actually met, but
I highly doubt it. I have a freakishly good memory and feel sure I remember. If
you ask him today, he seems more confident that we had to have met at some point,
but isn’t the woman always right? ;)
Fast forward about 20 years, when we truly did meet
in person. We were at the same event and I remember he walked up to me and called me by
name. I’d seen him arrive and recognized him, but was surprised that he knew me. I don’t recall that we had any other conversation that night and am not
sure I thought anything further of the encounter.
Another jump of about a year’s time and our paths were crossing with more regularity. I took a good look in his direction and
thought to myself, “Hey, this guy is pretty cute” (Yes, I still call men
“cute”). I have no clue what he was thinking when he looked at me, but at some
point we did have a little flirtation, so one can assume that he must not have
thought I was a homely wildebeest or something. Ultimately,
however, he ended up in a serious relationship with someone else and that was the
end of that.
For the next several years, he would pop up in my life
about every 6 months. As social media lurker, he wasn’t
one to publicly comment, but I’d get a private message and we’d do a little
catching up.
Somewhere along the road, he stopped seeing the woman
he’d been dating and I literally moved on to another city. We no longer had the
opportunity to run into each other around town, but he continued to pop up now and then.
A few years ago, I finally got my act together and got
healthy. Well, healthier than I had been. I can’t claim I was particularly
healthy, but I lost weight and started exercising more. Paying attention
to what I was eating and actually – FINALLY – giving a damn about what I was doing
to my body and whether or not I wanted it to be in
decent shape. I felt really good about myself for probably the first time in my
life.
Due to social media, over the years I had also seen
photos of him and knew that he had put on some weight. I’m NOT pointing the fat
finger at anyone, because I know I’m not skinny, but for what weight I had
lost, it looked like he had gained. I still found him physically attractive (plus,
he is ridiculously witty and charming and that’s a turn on for me), but I knew I looked good with 40 pounds gone. I also knew he needed to see it. To see
exactly what he was missing.
When the opportunity presented itself, I made contact to
see if we were going to be at the same event in the near future. In truth, I
already knew that we were, but I didn’t want him to know that. With great
deliberation, I knew I had to look as good as I could on those days we would
cross paths. I needed him to regret that he’d never wanted to date me or done
more than flirt mildly with me. My vanity and still-wounded ego demanded it.
We chatted a bit on-line prior to seeing each other and
when we finally had a chance to visit in person, it was nice. His charm and wit
was still fully intact. It was like chatting with an old friend, even though
I’d have called casual friends at best. Not that my new-found warm and fuzzy
feeling stopped me from making absolutely sure that the last time we saw other that
I was wearing a great dress and some killer high, high heels, so I did kind
of tower over him (we are about the same height). I am very deliberate
sometimes.
Truth be told, I actually turned down an invitation to
spend more time together on that very day and in hindsight, I wonder why I was
quite so dense. I guess I wasn’t reading that as a potential signal of any
greater interest in me and maybe it actually wasn’t. You’d have to ask him
about that. I think we would have enjoyed spending more time together. Who
knows where it might have led? Ah well. Regrets and such.
After that time, we actually kept in touch with random
texts. I even remember once when he did not respond to me feeling a little sad.
A friend asked me that if he was just a friend, why did it bother me so much? I
didn’t delve into that at the time, but as hindsight is always 20/20, I can see
that my interest was more than friendly still.
Looking back, I realize we were flirting, but neither of
us was doing anything about it. I’d been burned before by him, thinking that
years-old flirtation had been leading somewhere, so he was going to have to
make the first move. When he didn’t, I assumed disinterest on his part and went
on with life.
I have friends who actually questioned why he wasn’t a
good choice as a potential date and I said it was because I couldn’t trust him.
He’d flirted with me – again, very tamely – when he was embarking on a new
relationship. That’s not ok with me. And yes, I flirted back, even when I knew
he wasn’t really available so I’m not guiltless, but it still made me a little uneasy, even years later. Plus, as I have said, he wasn’t making a move toward us ever
seeing each other again, so I had no reason to think he might have a greater
interest in me than the occasional flirty text.
I was wrong.
To be continued...
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