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I hadn't thought of him in years. Decades, even. My mother always spoke gently of him--she knew how in love we were as teenagers. And we were. We were obsessed. So many childhood memories. First loves. The only punk rockers in the county and we were next door neighbors. He was the bad boy who wasn't so bad. He rode a motorcycle. He drove a van. He played drums. He worked on cars. We had nicknames for each other. We created our own logo by combining the first letters of our names. We would spend hours in his red room, listening to music and studying each others' bodies. My God, we really did love each other.
I left for the military and he stayed behind. We grew apart and found new loves, as one does at 17. He married her, I married him. He is now my brother in law and I pretend like I don't find that a little painful.
It's been 20 years and I would be lying if I didn't say I was excited to see him. There was a palpable drum roll in the air when I arrived. I was the last to walk in the room. I hugged everyone else, first. Then, lastly, him.
I had forgotten about his lisp. My God, how the memories come back. He asked me how old I was now. 35. I could see it in his face--the sting of a long lost love. The one who got away. He hugged me the first time and he lingered too long. Then, mingling conversation. I tried not to look at him. Both of us were gray now. Both of us were grown. And yet we both knew each other when we were children. As the conversation continued, I spoke to everyone but him. Not because I was rude but because I didn't want to feel those things again. I didn't want to catch his eye and upset my sister. In the middle of my avoidance, he stood. I watched him light a cigarette and I pretended not to notice that he still smoked Camel Blues. All of the history I wanted to relive. I wanted to point out all of the things that had changed and what hadn't. I wanted to tell him about my tattoo. I wanted to tell him I still have his shirt. I wanted to ask him where my class ring went. I wanted to tell him that I missed him for many years. I wanted to tell him that I loved the smell of leather because he took me to California. I wanted to tell him that there's a certain lotion out there that reminds me of him when I smell it from time to time. I wanted to tell him that I still think of prom. And of the school bus. And of the school hallways. I can still see my pink gloss stuck on his lips. I still remember his freckle. I still remember those concerts. I can still see him moshing. I can still see him fixing his hair. I can still feel him inside of me. I still remember the cabin and the glowstick. I remember the woods. I remember the barn. I remember the bed. I remember it all. I remember sticking up for him. I remember his green car. I remember wrapping presents. I remember that pregnancy scare. I remember so much.
As he stood there, my eyes darted to his shoes. Chucks. I enjoyed that he still wore them. Neither one of us had changed. We knew each other so well. And then, just as I was mastering my coyness, he walked across the room and gently but sadly sighed, "Oh, ____..." and reached for another hug. He embraced me and I could feel those 20 years hanging on him like a heavy blanket. In the center of the room, we hugged. I could tell me missed me so very much, even after all this time. He spoke of relatives he knew I had met. He told me that his grandma had passed away. I wanted to ask how his brothers were. I wanted to ask if he still hated Pilar. Does he still talk to his old friends. How's Justin?
You never forget your first love. I thought it was very beautiful that he went for a second hug. I'll be seeing him tomorrow but under different circumstances. It took me a long time to fall out of love. The stinging didn't stop until I was 24. I don't remember when it stopped but it did. Life has moved on and I'm happy with how things turned out. But boy, there are certain things you never forget. I would love to know what his memories hold. I must have left an impact because how could a first love not? We had so much fun. We broke all the rules. We were ourselves at our most free. He would have been the one I would have married had I not been enlisted before we met.
What a different life it would have been. The heartbreak in his eyes was obvious. Tomorrow, I'll look at him. Tomorrow, I'll find a way to say that I never forgot him.
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