I’m joining Owlhaven and a group of other great bloggers to tell my love story for October. For more stories check out the comments under each of Owlhaven’s installments.
We lost touch. The letters, the phone calls-they faded away into everyday life, into what was in front of us at the moment. For me, it was a tumultuous relationship with T. For him, it was a marriage to a possessive and difficult person. There was no denying that we still had a bit in common.
I was laying on the floor in the living room when Mama handed me the phone (I didn’t move out of my parent’s home until I graduated college which took, ahem, six years). I recognized his voice immediately-it was that same deep, rolling voice that had soothed my heart so many years ago . He had scrounged up some change for the payphone to tell me that he’d gotten a divorce, that he was repairing some of his lost friendships.Those same butterflies that had visited my stomach years back returned. He said “I love you.” as he was hung up the phone, natural, sincere and I just didn’t know what to think. I received another self portrait in the mail.
Excerpts from my letter to him:
“We’ve talked on the phone for two days now. I’m already used to it. You feel so familiar and normal. Your record collection, the way you laugh-I love how you laugh.”
“There is this strong, deep connection that mists over all my thoughts of you. Right now you are like a familiar mystery. I’m curious, I want to ask you so many questions, but I’m not even sure what to ask or what to say. I wonder if you’ll ask me what I’m thinking about like you used to.”
He was coming to visit and yet I had never truly reached him. My words were like floating bottles set out to sea, and no wonder, really. He was still reeling from a hard divorce. He was getting his life back, slowly, painstakingly and I was 500 miles away. A phantom voice and a photo.
He had car trouble, his trip was delayed and months later, when he finally made it down here, he had a girlfriend.Just as well, I told myself. I would probably have screwed him over anyway-I was still so caught up in my personal drama that I could hardly see straight. I saw him for the first time in years at B’s house in the city. We sat next to each other on the front porch swing and talked about nothing. I stole glances at him. The spark was still there, I could feel it.
Later that night we all went to my house and played just like in the old days. We chased each other in the fields and woods around the house, sat in his van to warm up,
jumped on the trampoline.
Then we went our separate ways again. He drove back north and I went to my ex-boyfriend’s house.