Long Lost Loves
This post has absolutely nothing to do with being a fos*ter par*ent, or adop*tion - but I'm sure it will find its way in somehow:I talked to an old ex-boyfriend the other day. I called him. He is going through a painful divorce. His wife had left him (and their two children) for another man while he was doing military cleanup efforts down in LA after Karina. Hard core. He had called my mom to tell her he was getting a divorce. My parents and gradparents had always been more of a family to him than his own was (while we were together, and for a while afterwards).
The last time I had even spoken to Rick was a tough conversation. It was right before he left for Desert Storm. We hadn't been together for quite some time, but I loved him. I loved him all out - down into my toes and all the way to the tips of my hair. He was beautiful - with curly red hair and freckles. He was a tight end on our high school football team. Being with him was exciting - he was older, more mature, and popular. Everyone liked Rick, and everyone knew me when I was with him. He was passionate, charasmatic, intelligent, clever, and funny. Rick was a force to be reconned with. Our fights were just as passionate. I suppose that was why the end was as traumatic for me as it was. That, and...
Rick was my first. *sigh*
There are those people we say "I will always love you" too, yet when it's over, so is the love. Not with me - not with Rick. I always missed him. I always loved him. I still do - differently, of course, but I still love him dearly.
He didn't respond to my letters and packages much during the war - I didn't expect it. But when I learned that he was getting married, I was crushed. We never spoke again - until about a month ago.
My mom (bless her heart) doesn't give out my information - any of it. When Rick called her, she pretty much told him I lived in KY, and when asked about marriage and kids, she was pretty tight lipped. But she did tell me that he had called and what was going on with him.
I was shocked. I didn't want my mom to know anything, so I scrounged the internet and found a phone number for him. I held onto it for day, afraid to call, afraid of saying the wrong thing.
One night, I couldn't rest and kept thinking about Rick, so after Michael and the baby were in bed, I wandered downstairs in the dark and called him.
He answered, and I knew it was him.
"Hi Rick. It's Tam. Tam Lastname. Mom told me you called, and I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for what you're going through. I know. I went through a divorce too.
"Tam. Oh my God. Tam. It's you. You sound so grown - you sound... You called. I'm so glad to hear from you."
And so it went for almost two hours. He told me the entire story, how it happened, how he felt, how the kids reacted and how they were doing now. We talked about Cookie, and how I couldn't have children. He said how sorry he was, and how awful that must have been to learn that. He said what a great mom I would make. We remembered some things, but nothing very imtimate. He sounded just as kind, just as passionate, just as lovely. It was nice to know that some people don't change much. I was glad he hadn't. He was nice just the way he was. I hear his wife looked a lot like me - everyone told me it was scary how much she looked like me.
I missed Rick a lot over the years. As folks would see him at various events over time, they'd tell me about it. I'd grin respectfully and sya nice things, and I'd be thankful I didn't have to be there to see him. Seeing him would have really hurt. He was my first love. I never really got over him.
Maybe I should have, and maybe not. Sometimes we are just meant to live with things. I think we are too quick to dismiss people and the impact they have on our lives, or on our hearts. I'm grateful for Rick. It is HIS kisses that I got to use as a standard (that few were ever able to exceed), it was HIS body that I came to know as lovely and wonderful. He admired me and saw me as beautiful and from then on I knew what that felt like. For a long time, he was a part of my life and a part of my family. Other men that would come into my life had a tough road. Rick set the stardard pretty high. I'm glad. I deserved a great man.
Thanks, Rick, for setting the bar so high.
posted by No Longer In Crisis @ 8/11/2006 03:21:00 PM
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