Connecting with the past

It was a very last minute meeting, nothing calculated, nothing planned. The thought of writing to him just came to my mind the night before, and I wasn't really expecting a response, especially to a sudden proposal to meet. But respond he did, and we met. On Sinterklaas (St Nicholas Day), the day, of all days, on which the wishes and dreams of children are supposed to be fulfilled. Pure coincidence, perhaps.

It's been about four years since we last met. And I proposed to meet at the same place where we first met on a date, outside the public library. At the agreed time, as I walked toward the building, I saw him lean against the wall lost in his book.

Quietly I called his name, and he looked up. I smiled.

Beforehand I had contemplated a bit on how to greet him. What is the most appropriate way to greet someone you met on two dates four years ago and then disappeared from your life until four years later you suddenly receive a mail from  telling you for such a long time you have been on his mind? Do you do the traditional three kisses on the cheeks? I don't know why that seemed like a bizarre choice. Do I give him a handshake? It would have felt too formal, like a business meeting. And I think we are beyond that. So I gave him a hug. A big hug, and said in his ear it's been so long already. Nothing could go or be wrong  with a hug. At least in my mind...

It was a little awkward at first, knowing what to say, getting used to one another again after all this time. For me, the initial awkwardness came from, I guess,  trying to figure out who this person is and how he figures in my life. Reading his email, in which be confessed to thinking about me even after all this time, made me feel flattered, but at the same time scared. And a few weeks ago, I discovered that he began a blog, in which he wrote some entries about me, and how I touch(ed) and inspire(d) him.

It's not (I don't think) that he's been lying awake at night and hopelessly dreaming of what could have been between us had I not moved away months after we met. It's just that all these years, I didn't have a clue that our two dates left such a deep impression on him, and I felt responsible. Did I consciously go out with him and then let things just fade away because he wasn't interesting? No, it wasn't that. I simply had too much going on in my life, simply had too much to deal with, at the time we met that he, and whatever could have been between us, was pushed to the background.

He says he's grateful I was his first date. Not that we had anything intimate or physical, but at the very least just meeting me and getting to know (what little of) me sort of set the bar for the kind of person he'd like to find and be with. And for me... Who was he for me? I've been trying to figure that out since he wrote to me. It's not that I don't have any feelings toward him. There's something there, just how deep or how strong I'm not sure. Hard as it sounds, I really just don't remember how I felt back then.

The few hours we sat down and caught up on the missing days of our lives over the past few years went by so quickly. We spoke about changes in our lives, what we've been up to. And very quickly, it began to feel as if I was meeting an old friend and having a heart to heart talk. We spoke about relationships, exs, plans and hopes. And despite the hiatus of some four years, it felt like I was getting to know a good friend.

At one point, I  steered the conversation to our first dates. Was it appropriate? I don't know. But at least for me, it felt like it was a topic we needed to touch upon to get rid of any lingering feelings and awkwardness.

 As he and I spoke about our feelings and what our first meetings meant to one another, the bits and pieces began to be put together. And he grew on me again. There before me was a guy, smart, good-looking, well-spoken and reflective, with whom I know I could have something. But alas, fate and life did not grant us the time or opportunity.

What that would develop into, how long that would have lasted,  I don't know. But there was, and in ways, there still is, potential. It felt disappointing to realise that, for I know two days from now I'll be gone, and who knows when I'll see him again (though I did repeatedly invite him to visit me, and he too invited me to visit him in the city he'll be moving to...). Two days from now, whatever feelings that have been rekindled, even if they are faint and uncertain, will most likely fade again as he and I go back to separate our lives.

 It was disappointing because the  distance and barriers between us are just too great (besides, he probably does not feel the same way I feel...). But our meeting also  gave me a sense of hope. Hope, especially after all the complications with my ex and being left to feel abandoned and lingering in the background as he pursues a new relationship, that I can feel again, that I can meet someone and feel like I can move on. If my ex can apparently move on so quickly, then why can't I? Why do I feel like I owe my ex anything, when he is already out there pursuing (or at least trying to pursue) his own happiness? I can do the same, I want to do the same.

Meeting this guy from four years ago reassured me that I deserve something beautiful. I deserve to be with someone who can be with me fully, and not make me feel o need to compete for and win his love and attention. I do not need to always feel like the victim or feel worthless because my ex left me to go after someone else. I am master over my own happiness and the life I choose I lead.

We parted company, and he was a bit quiet, I was a bit quiet. How will this all end, I found myself asking. What was going on in his mind, I do not know, perhaps will never know.

 Again, I gave him a hug, a tight and long one, the way I know how. He went his way, I went mine. For a moment, I stood and watched him cycle away. He probably had no idea...

Quietly, as his figure grew smaller and smaller, I wished him well, wished him happiness and peace. And the distance between us began to grow and grow again.