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Old Boyfriends

 
Today I am thankful for old boyfriends.
 
  
I received a drunken phone call from an old friend.  We go back many, many years.
 
He had a crush on me when we were both fourteen.  He made me a little wooden angel that he gave me one Christmas, saying she would watch over me when times were bad. 
 
 
I've had her all these years. 

He would escort me home from school.  When it rained, he found shortcuts through the local farm land.  He'd shield me when the old farmer would chase us.  He always stood between me and the electric fence. 

He was my friend. 

He was a few weeks younger than I, so we agreed that we wouldn't date. 

Then, I met my high school sweetheart.  He told me tonight he was so jealous because my boyfriend was his age.  They were both just a few weeks younger than I.

My friend never kissed me but he always talked about wanting to marry me.  Even after high school, he wanted to marry me. 

Despite it all, he still cared.

We are both heavily involved in politics.  He lives in another state.  Our lives have paralleled in an eerie fashion. 
 
He is a war hero, if there could be such a thing.  He was blown up at nineteen and survived.  He married a beautiful woman and had three daughters.   They look just like he did with adorable little freckles and reddish hair. 

When he was hurt in the war, I was the one he wanted to call.  This was before he met his beautiful wife. 

Love...is love...no matter where it came from.  What we had was deep friendship unmarred by the pangs of lust.  It is still love, even if it is innocent. 

We couldn't deny that we loved each other. We were friends. We were close. It just never seemed to work out.

Tonight we had that old mid-life chat. 

He doesn't understand how wonderful he is. 

His wife left him a single father.  He remarried again.  They've been together nearly a decade.  The kids are thriving. 


He doesn't understand how wonderful that is. 

He said that he should have married me. 

Uh...no...how could he say that? 

I spent an hour and a half trying to explain to him that he dodged a bullet when I didn't marry him.


I told him a little about my political escapades.  They were born out of a sick and twisted desire for revenge. 


I told him that my foray into politics scared my high school sweetheart away.   He won't talk to me anymore. 

If that was any proof that he dodged a bullet when we didn't get married, that was it. 

I even managed to scare his rival away with my brat-itude.

But, he reminded me, I was always obnoxious.  It turned him on.

I had no idea.


He finally got tired enough to fall asleep.  I hope he has sweeter dreams.  He loves his wife.  He loves his kids.  He is a good man.  She is a good woman.  They are good kids. 


They will be okay. 


I needed to hear his voice.  Today was a very painful day for me.  It was frightening and violent.  It took a few hours for me to stop shaking enough to drive to the grocery store to pick up supplies.

I realized that I am falling in love with a friend and am trying to stop feeling this way.  I asked my ex again for a legal separation. 

I haven't been held by a man for several years.  I am lonely.  I still have panic attacks several times a day.  I still cry myself to sleep in the middle of the night. 

My dentist pointed out that I shake constantly.  I will probably have to go get treatment for PTSD.  The doctor I see for that is in my hometown.  I try to avoid that area now because it makes me remember growing up and falling in love. 

Maybe I need to go back home for awhile. 

Maybe it is okay to remember love. 

I forgot how beautiful the feeling of caring about another human being feels. 

Love makes me feel beautiful. 

I feel beautiful, even when the man has no clue that he is the reason.  I love him.  He doesn't know.  I still feel beautiful.  It doesn't matter if he knows or not.

I feel good being around my friend.  If he is happy that's all that really matters. 

I am realizing that I need to get out of here. 


My ex wants me to wait until he finishes therapy.  He believes that marriage is about helping each other. 


He doesn't help me. 


I am afraid of leaving.  I'm afraid of the stalking picking up.  I'm afraid of violence.  I'm afraid of my platonic friend getting scary messages from someone pretending to be me. 


The problem is that I can't hide it.  I glow when he's near.  Tuesday my ex and he will be in the same room. 


I'll probably be in hiding. 


Love never dies.  Even if it ends in friendship, it never dies.  I never kissed my old boyfriend yet when he hurts, I want to be there holding his hand and telling him that he will be alright.

That is what I learned today. 

Honor love, no matter where it leads you. 

I will do my best to do the same. 

It was sad.  I called him by the name I used when we were kids.  You could hear his voice crack in response. 

His voice cracked just like it did when he was a teenager. 

It is amazing how much stays the same emotionally when our externals are all different.

Love ya,


S. 

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