Tuesday, 9 January 2007

Snow angels...

I'm back after Christmas, J and I had a wonderful break where he felt better, thus I felt better, and there were lots of laughing and cuddles and sex and socialising and all the other things I vaguely remember that relationships used to be all about before I had a depressed boyfriend.

It's like snow angels; never really there so never really gone
Making Snow Angels by dcvr.
Of course the effect of that holiday is rapidly wearing off, and he just now contacted me because he's having a small panic about not being able to do something right at work (I actually couldn't cope with talking to him about it; I've realised it just makes me depressed too; hopefully he'll find a new therapist shortly).

But that's not really what's on my mind anyway.

Over Christmas I met my First Great Love at a party at a mutual friend's house. I was ralking to another friend of mine whom I hadn't seen for ages, and I was so engrossed in the conversation that I didn't even notice that FGL arrived until I looked up and spotted him over my other friend's shoulder as we were chatting.

My reaction was shocking. My heart dropped to my feet like a rock and started racing like an alarm clock on speed. I felt dizzy. I was suddenly very aware of myself, and made a huge effort not to look at him as I felt I needed a moment merely to cope with his presence in the room before even beginning to think of how to address it.

I did what any sensible 14-year old would do and completely ignored him until he came over to talk to me.

As he sat next to me in the sofa, our thighs touching through my net stockings (I openly admit having made an extra effort to look stunning as I suspected he would be there), we talked about our lives since last time we met (amazingly about two years earlier... old love never rusts).

And I realised a few things. I realised I still miss him and the closeness we had, even though our conversations now are just a shadow of those we used to have. And I realised I will always feel this way. If two years and a massive crush and excitingly emotional relationship with J, whom I love dearly, can't do a thing to fade the memory of FGL, nothing can.

And lastly, I realised that sadly, even if we lived on the same side of the globe, I could never relate to him just as a friend without slowly crushing my heart in the same way I used to over a decade ago.

I told him I was feeling depressed, that I was homesick.

"You can do anything," he said about my career change. "If you put your mind to it, of course you can do it."

Then, putting his hand on my arm (electric shock for me, of course..): "But why do you want to do something different? I mean really?"

"I just want to come home," I said, suddenly feeling incredibly emotional.

"Then just come home," he said, looking straight at me. "Everything will work out."

Of course, I can't just come home. I pointed out J, my job situation etc. etc. But he's right. I need to go home. It's the only thing that would get me out of this mess and back on track. I think that's why I love him; when he says something it seems believable, achievable (if I could do the same for J, things would be great). He'll make a great therapist one day, that all female clients will fall madly in love with.

Later, I chatted with his girlfriend about the new flat they've bought together and about how it's going with his son. She's a very nice girl, she really is. They're lucky.

There was no alley love making, of course.

At the end of the evening we said goodbye and he disappeared out the door with his girlfriend.

But as my childhood sweetheart said when I discussed it with him a few days later, you can never get away from the one who got away.

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