Nine Years is a Long Time

I saw her for the first time in years. She was one of those female friends of mine that I felt a definite connection to. You know the type: God DAMN! if I was not married and she was not as well we could be something together. She was (and still is) beautiful. An soft lightness of physical and spiritual beauty that emanates from her being transcending her pain because she loves others so much better than she loves herself.. Sometimes as soft as light rain water and at other times a torrent of energy. But always with a sadness and a shadow of unspoken pain. An alcoholic for a husband. I suspect a man that did not touch her.

Her energy would pulse forward and out in her passion for skiing and entertaining. A sweet melodious voice that gripped your heart and rends it into shards of sadness for the entrapped diamond clear potential trapped in a loveless marriage.

Loyal to her son to the point of probably making her broken it is not until he is well a man she decides to leave her husband.

And we meet. Not quite by chance as she was doing some shopping were I work. I looked up and recognized her instantly. World worn was her face. A shock to me. I wave and call her name instantly making her start and she smiles that smile. She has these thin lips which tasted so good that stride outwards to the corner of her face as she smiles and those blue eyes light up in recognition of me. I ask her to come back and say hi.

She must of waited 20 minutes for me to get away. She is as petite as the last time I saw her. I approach half in fear because because her face has aged so. Somehow it is riven with lines of worry and hurt - not the lines of wide smiles and too much sun and laughter. We approach and as smooth as if we hugged all the time her lightness fills my arms. She feels like she did the last time I hugged her more than 3 years before the last time I saw her.

The hug is just right. Not too tight. Not too short. Not to long. Not too loose.

We talk because conversation cannot be had. It is not private enough but more than that I think she feels something the same as me. The unspoken void of a night of kisses shared semi-sinfully in the water of a cool lake and then in her car outside my place. She pulled me in then on her terms. Momentary. Fleeting. Painfully short and the creation of unrequited love in me. As quickly as she let me in she closed the portal of possibility for greater but more challenging and painful commitments that she had to hold to her.

I understood why and I hated myself and her for it.

But she is here. We trade pleasantries and I offer my phone number and she asks for my email address. I give it to her and we hug again and I dare not even attempt to smell her scent. Nothing is probably going to happen.

I hope she is on the right road now. She is leaving him. She is rebuilding and I know in my heart she has the strength of Samson and I pray she will find the peace that has eluded her for so long.

I love you C. As a friend. Godspeed.