Letter from the past

I met him about four years ago. We had a couple of email exchanges after he responded to an ad I placed online. And one night we decided to finally meet.

It was exciting, as all dates are, and a bit scary too, as all dates can be. I remember spending hours writing to him and checking my inbox every so often over the next days hoping he had written back, wondering what clever or funny response he would have to my emails. And when he did, I'd read with zeal the email and look for meaning behind the words, look for some kind of connection or understanding  that was perhaps unsaid, but revealed there were mutual good feelings.  I enjoyed our political discussions, and enjoyed getting to know one another, or at least getting to know one another through the words we chose to write.

We finally met, for a dinner and a documentary. One about genocide, admittedly not the most cheerful or romantic. But even so, I was first and foremost, as I am now, looking for a friend, someone to connect with, someone to do things with. If something should come out of the meeting, a deeper connection of some sort, then great. In fact, i longed for a deeper connection, I longed for a relationship, as much back then as now. If not, then at least for a couple of hours I was not by my self.

I enjoyed his company, but we parted soon after the movie ended. I forget how we said goodbye, was it with a kiss on the cheeks or a handshake? Was it with a hug, or did i just turn around and leave? I remember cycling home at night feeling light, feeling like there was something there, and wondering whether I'd hear from him again...

Was i waiting for him to write, perhaps fearing I would come on too strong and perhaps fearing rejection if I made the first move. And perhaps he felt and feared the sane. A month or so went by without any news, and then he finally broke the silence in writing to me. I think (and he confirmed recently) we met a second time, but the memories of that second meeting escapes me.

How much did I really know about him from the emails we exchanged, and how much did he know about me from the brief hours we spent together over two evenings? I didn't even know his full name, nor did I know how old he was. What would become of us? What would have happened or developed? With time, we faded from one another's lives and memories.

 Or at least he from mine. It was a tumultuous period. Life took over, and the death of my dad consumed my mind for some time after we reconnected in early 2008. I remember he was very supportive and wrote me a comforting email to express his condolences. But between mourning, finishing off my job, rounding up my (then) masters thesis, and finalising my my big move to Canada, we lost contact...

To my surprise, he wrote to me again a month or so ago. I may have forgotten his name, but he certainly did not forget me, he said. And for the last few years I entered his thoughts from time to time, for somehow, for better or worse, I left a deep impression on him.

He wrote wanting some closure, asking what it was we were doing at the doing, if anything. Perhaps we were both so young and naive we didn't know what we wanted, or, if we did, we didn't know what to do to get what we wanted. And realistically, with me leaving the country so often at the time, and ultimately moving to Canada, little would have happened...

Why did I contact him in the first place? Did I do that, back in November 2007, even though I had plans to move away? I don't quite remember  the chronological of it all, and what I wanted from meeting someone... Was it a temporary something to fill the void that was inside of me, or was it searching for something, someone to make me stay ?

Point is, I met someone, and I left an impression on his life I never intended to, I never imagined possible. Not that he is completely love stricken and forever relplaying the brief moments we had together (I don't think...). But it does make me question whether there is something wrong with me that I seem to be oblivious to the deep impact I seem to have on people. Where does this effect come from? How does a person, even after four years, still remember someone he barely even knows and barely had the chance to get to know better? And not just him, but also my ex, who has told me again and again how he cannot imagine a life without me (in whatever capacity) in it.

The date I had four years ago wrote me he has rarely met as kind-hearted  a person as me, and that, in a way, I helped shape what it is he is looking for in a partner, in a relationship. I am flattered, and in a way have confidence again that however alone I may be, especially after my last relationship so abruptly ad cruelly broke down, there may be hope yet...

It is hard to meet people in this world, but somehow i must keep on reminding myself there are people out there who, even with the briefest of encounters, even with the shortest period of interaction, will, for one reason or another, like me for who I am. I rarely think this way or tell myself this, however alone I maybe, however lonely I may be feeling, there is someone out there for me, waiting for me.