The One that got away....

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Blinocac200sx

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A little gal from another local message board. Long story short, my male pride kept me from asking her out, and she moved on to a guy who reminds me of me. Still, it worked out well for me in the end, because I ended up with my incredible wife.
 

Hawgman

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It was the late 70’s. Ninth grade art class. When she walked into the room everything froze; time, my thoughts, my heart, my breathing. She moved like smoke; fluid and graceful. Tall and slender with long golden hair. Whether she entered a room or I merely saw her in the hall, while she was in my vision nothing else existed. When she would turn those big blue eyes toward me and smile that cute sweet smile I would turn inside out.

We had brief occasional contact through the eleventh grade. Whenever I wasn’t dating she was and vice-versa. I don’t think a day went by that I didn’t think about her. She always stood out… always. After graduating high school I couldn’t stop thinking about her. After a couple months I couldn’t get passed the thought that after high school that’s when everybody drifts apart. She was the only one I thought about from the other girls I had dated. As the weeks went by I felt I just had to know if there was a chance for us. I worked up the nerve and called. I could hear her smile over the phone when she heard it was me. She didn’t hesitate to agree to go out with me.

We dated for a couple months and it was beyond good. It was so easy to be with her. We had an immediate and easy companionship. It was obvious she liked me a lot and I was at my most content and happy when I was with her. She was the first one I had ever even given a single thought to a long term, life-long relationship.

Then the pain. I stopped by her house one bright and beautiful day. There was another guy there. A guy she said she had gotten rid of. Back then I had a terribly distorted self-image and zero self-esteem. He came from money so I figured it was only natural she would chose him over me. The whole thing made me feel my chosen profession wasn’t good enough anymore. Several months later I joined the military.

In the meantime there was a girl I had gone steady with a couple times who wanted to be in contact with me again. A very good and wonderful girl. We wrote a lot and I would see her whenever I was home on leave. Five years out of high school we got married. To survive and to keep from going crazy I began to bury “the one that got away” in my mind. It was pretty hard the first few to several years. I thought about her a lot. After a time I got very good at not thinking about her. I had a wife (that I loved very much) and kids and career to live up to. Still that few times a year memories of her would flood in… and it would hurt. It would hurt quite a bit. Never wished her ill. Never once. Always hoped she was doing well. Then I would bury her down in my mind once again.



Time passed, I retired from the military, we moved back near my old stomping grounds to be around family. It had gotten to where I never really thought about “the one that got away” anymore. Never entered my mind. Not only that, but there were a lot of stresses in my life. Kids getting older, finding and starting a new job and the relationship with my wife had been in a steady downhill direction for several to ten years by this time. Our first eight to ten years were pretty good, even great sometimes. She’s an excellent mother and was a very good military wife. Over time it got to where nothing I ever did or said brought my wife any closer to me, only further. It had gotten to the point I was empty inside, completely devoid of hope for anything. It was looking like I would be alone in a few years. And you know, I was ok with that. I wanted the fewest people possible in my life at that point. I was warming up to the idea of having my own life in a little apartment and no more emotional pain from trying all the time yet being rejected and unappreciated. That’s when it happened.

Once or twice a year I would talk to an old buddy from high school days. For the umpteenth time he was nagging me to get on facebook. Again, this was at a time I had zero interest on having contact with much of anybody. The idea of joining facebook had no appeal at all. I kept telling my friend no, I’m not interested. Yet, every time we talked on the phone he would harp on me about it. The last time I talked to him on the phone (he died of a brain aneurysm several months later) he was going through the list of all his friends on facebook. After about 50 names I was at the end of my patience. Half the names I knew and some knew well back in school. There were several names spoken of girls I had dated. Some brought a small smile of nice memories, some a roll of the eyes glad I’m not in touch with. Damn sure didn’t want to talk to any of them.

Then it happened. He said her name. I froze. He kept saying names but I couldn’t hear him. My brain began to crackle with electricity. My chest and stomach began to buzz with a sensation I’d never felt before. I realized my jaw was open and my breathing had stopped. I came to my senses, closed my mouth, began to breathe again and swallowed. I asked him to repeat the female name he had said a few names back. He said her name again then asked me if I remember her. I said yes, but made it sound casual. He told me they played animal farm or whatever on facebook and she lives in a town that’s not far from me. I couldn’t believe it.

It took me a few days to get over the giant blow of hearing her name. The memories and feelings came flooding back in once the dam had been broken down. I joined facebook and friended my old buddy. I was stunned when she sent me a friend request in just under 10 minutes! She happened to be on facebook at the time and received a notification that my buddy had friended me. I came to learn the painful, difficult and often disappointing story of her life. It was some heartbreaking stuff at times. All of it confirmed by a mutual friend that’s known her all this time. She had thought about me dearly and often over the years. For her I was the “one that got away”. She regretted it deeply throughout her life. She told me that she would at times talk to me when no one was around when she was going through some of her very worst times. She also said that she knew I was a good guy and that if one good guy exists, maybe there would be another she could share her life with. I literally became a type of hope for her when things were at their worst when in an abusive relationship.


We’ve become close. Whether we’re writing, talking on the phone or the rare face to face it’s incredible. The ease of the give and take is like we’ve known each other for 30 years. It’s hard to explain but it’s like having someone around that almost another you. I never knew two human beings could have this effortless flow. But it’s a relationship of restriction. I’m still married and still at it trying to make something better out of my marriage.

To me, mine is a story of “the one that got away, but then got back”. Maybe things can’t be all one might hope for, but I no longer feel I’m alone in the world. No matter what my situation may be there is someone who simply wishes to know me and share at even a restricted level, whatever is possible. No matter what ever happens to me I know there’s someone that loves me and cares deeply for me no matter what. Not everybody gets that, I’m now one of the lucky few.
 
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bettingpython

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The first wife was the one that got away. More like the one I drove away, but she's happy from what I understand, got her Doctorate in veterinary medicine, married another veterinarian, they have a practice here in town and I heard she has a place in the country with animals.

I steer well clear of anyplace she might be and of the store where her dad works. I would only bring up bad memories.
 

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