Okay, so I’ve been a bit vocal in the relationship threads. Of course it had to happen to me.
I’ve put this in MPSIMS because I know what I’m doing about it.
T was someone I met twenty years ago. A flatmate (roomie) in a four person house. He was (and, I assume,* is*) a decent guy.
I had come out of a relationship that ended in violence. I moved in with T, A & S before my face and neck had fully healed. T spent my first evening talking to me about it all. He was older than me. He knew what to say and during the smallest of hours, I realised I was not just okay, but already actively taking my life back.
I never felt less than him - younger and less experienced - but equal.
We were friends.
I was too young and definitely too immature for anything more than that.
If he knew I fancied him a bit, he kept it to himself. When he moved out, it was to set up a home with someone he described as ‘the love of his life’.
I’ve spent the twenty years since then in three different cities, with many many different flats and house-mates. He’s still my favourite.
Every time I’ve thought of him (Like when I see parachutes and I remember T’s reaction when S and me went and jumped out of a perfectly good plane. T called us idiots, but had whiskey ready for when we got home. Or when A kept exploding the jugs and then came to her own ‘thank god she’s gone’ party), when I think of him it’s with the hope that his marriage is happy, that *he *is happy.
I saw him yesterday evening. After twenty years and in a whole different city, greyer and tired, but unmistakably - him.
Didn’t even speak, by the time I was over the shock, he’d gone.
The first thing I thought of was a recent thread where I admonished some poor lad to be Open and Direct.
So, I had to look up the phone book - and there was T. Single entry, initials rather than name. No partner.
I had told that wee laddie to man up and grab the phone.
I had to ring the number or admit to being a total hypocrite.
I did call, tonight.
This is where the karma kicks in.
“Hi,” I said to the voice that didn’t sound like his at all. “Is T there?”
“No, wrong number.” Click.
I had dialled correctly (I checked), there is someone else in town with that initial who is not the friendly decent guy I knew.
Hoist on my own petard – ‘open and direct’ just ‘failed miserably’.
Now, I’m not going to hunt him down through all the other people with that surname in the book. That is something I’ve found creepy when it’s happened to me. I’m not going to actively seek out a meeting. He could well be happily married and I have no real business with him beyond ‘hey thanks’ and ‘you’re still good looking’.
I *will *tell this story to my friends, because in all honesty, I’d like him to know how much of a positive impact he had on my life.
And I hope he’s happy.