The One That Got Away

Ohh...don't get me started. There are a few I still think about. Would I want to meet them now? Maybe one, just to see how she's doing, but otherwise no. Umm...my wife knows my screen name....

When I was dating, I rarely acted on what should have been obvious situations due to insecurity and shyness. I think often those feelings were mutual with whatever date I had, who had no clue whether or not I was interested, as I gave no signs. Years ago, after a night of booze and dirty dancing, and an invitation from a fine lady to 'pop in for a coffee', the out of town boyfriend showed up for a surprise visit. Perhaps it is those sort of experiences that tainted my youthful confidence.

Why didn't I act? Because it would have been like jumping off a cliff.

hmmmm. there was this one guy...back in '99.
we were both heavy into the cycling/running...triathlon stuff. whew, he was the best kisser. sigh.

but my husband is and was the best match for me.

the other guy...i guess you always sort of wonder how they are...what they are like now...do they have kids, etc.

hey, this reminds me, i'll have to tell you guys about my naked guy date. it's funny.

Heh, I actually went for it (this was in college, long before hubby and I met). It turned out to be pretty disappointing, actually. M___ was okay, and we enjoyed one another's company, but it turned out we were really not compatible and I always felt weird with him, like I had to be too well-groomed (not that I don't shower, it's that I had to have every hair in place, etc.) and on my best behavior. So the time we had together was short and kinda dull, from my perspective.

Also went for it with a guy named W___ (no, not Dubya), also in college. I was expecting more of an intellectual experience, as he was in an advanced Philosophy class with me and, as we say, wicked smaht. We used to stare at each other over the big desk we all sat around. That relationship was also short, once we were smooching, etc., that was all he wanted, and I didn't get the brain buddy that I wanted at the time.

I don't miss either of 'em, haven't thought of 'em in years.

I was bartending my way through college and he was, of course, a musician who preformed often at the club.

I have never had that kind of chemistry with anyone else and I know he felt the same way.

It was torture.

But he was married and he had kids and even as a wild young thing I had some scruples.

And so did he.

Which is just one of the reasons I wanted him so bad.

boomerang you had me until you tried to put musician and scruples in the same paragraph.......

boomerang!? wow, you surprised me. you don't seem like the kind of girl to get it goin' with a married musician...

As a child I lived on the family ranch about 35 miles from town. In many ways it was an ideal life. It was almost a Garden of Eden, though I suppose many might consider the Sonoran Desert a stretch. We were surrounded by family, but seldom were around children who weren't at least cousins. So I really looked forward to going to school.

I would have bathed in a tub of water heated on the woodstove the night before. While the men joked and ate breakfast before going out to do the endless work required of cattle, I would be getting dressed for town. New Levis, and cowboy shirts made from calico feed-sacks, I was a dude. Momma would then drive me in a pickup over about four miles of rutted dirt roads to the highway. We always arrived there early, and sat talking. It was a wonderful time, as we listened to Rex Allen on the radio and watched the sun rise over our mountains. Soon a station wagon would come to a stop and I would join the little group of ranch kids who also had to make a daily trek into town for school.

Among those who rode into town each morning was Helen B. Her daddy's was a bit better off than most because he served in the State Legislature, so Helen always dressed fine. We were in the same classes from the first grade through Junior High. We knew one another, like all of our other classmates, intimately from long association. Some we knew to be bullies, and some struggled to learn the easiest stuff. Some could survive in the desert with nothing but a penknife and bit of twine for weeks, and others got lost just going around the block. Helen was smart. She always was prepared for class and had read almost as many books as I had. Helen seemed mature, perhaps by being around sophisticated political types from the State Capitol. She never seemed quite like the rest of us, and from a very early age I loved her. Loved her before I knew that love could be for someone other than family.

I was in awe of Helen, and uncertain around her. What could I possibly say to a young goddess that might interest her, and not reveal my shortcomings? As well as we all knew one another, how could she not know all of my many faults? As we grew older, my shyness increased in direct proportion to my growing love. By the time we reached Junior High, Helen was even more beautiful. She was becoming a woman apparently without the pains of most adolescents. Her complexion never erupted into pimples, but remained clear and lightly tanned. She was a shape-changer and the whole class of boys dreamed of exploring her. What chance did a 90-pound nerd have to recommend them to such a superior being? I didn't seem to be changing for the better. I was short, with jug ears, and I did have pimples. Where Helen naturally became the center of every crowd, I preferred sitting alone on a mesa thinking and dreaming.

I lost even that when my mother remarried, and we were torn away from our home place. We lived in towns. My stepfather worked in the copper mines, so we were at the mercy of Phelps Dodge. For several of those grade school years I didn't see Helen, but I didn't forget her. I attended a one -room school in the Valley with a bunch of farm kids. Farm kids! I had been raised to believe that the only life worth living was from the back of a horse, and these were sodbusters. Yech. We lived in Bisbee for a while, and then in other little mining communities throughout the Southwest. We even spent a year in the Northwest where the sun shone only one day out of our entire time there. My stepfather was a drunk, and he was an abuser who took out his personal angers on my mother, my sisters and myself. We returned to Cochise County.

Helen had changed a lot in the time I was gone, and my life was becoming ever more difficult. My stepfather loathed my grandparents and refused to let us see them or visit the ranch. Beatings over trifles were becoming more frequent. My bookishness was belittled. My future was to work in the mines, and of what use would books be then? Though miners made reasonably good wages, our household was always broke. He would drink and miss work. Drink and beat us. I was not permitted to go on dates, or stay out after dark. My classmates had automobiles, but even after I took Driver's Education and got a Learner's Permit, I wasn't allowed to drive, much less have a car. I had been raised to be honorable, but began sneaking out at night to be with friends and I discovered shame. Helen and I were in many of the same classes, but the gulf between us seemed to grow.

It got to the point that I seriously considered killing my stepfather, and he richly deserved it. Instead, I dropped out of high school and joined the military. I left my mother and sisters behind to endure, and for that I carried a bundle of heavy guilt for years. The military was good for me, as it has so often been for other young men who need to make a new start. I got a high school equivalent in the military, and learned to program computers. I saw Times Square filled with more people at midnight than on the busiest day of the State Fair. I discovered that music could be made without guitars and fiddles. In Europe I saw great cathedrals filled with riches while ragged children begged on their steps. The sea is a bit like the desert, in that it is endless and there isn't anything to stand between a person the horizon and the sky. To eat hot stolen biscuits as the night gives birth to dawn is a wonderful experience. We talked in our narrow bunks about home, the girls we knew and had left behind, or looked forward to experiencing in the next port. I got letters from Momma, but I was not a good writer and didn't respond often or very well. More guilt to carry. I never heard from my old classmates, and lost track of Helen. I carried her with me as I wandered the world. It was to Helen that I compared every new woman I met, and they all fell short.

Eventually, I wound up in San Francisco. I met and fell in love with Natalie. I left the monastery for her, even though she had little in common with Helen. We were poor, very poor in those days. We decided that perhaps living would be easier in Mexico. The light would be good there and I might make enough from my paintings to keep us. We got to Los Angeles, and Natalie was pregnant so we bowed to our family's wishes and officially got married. For years thereafter I worked and studied to provide a life for my family. I loved them and love them still, but always in the back of my mind was Helen. I grew successful and old, and Helen still held a place in my heart.

A few years ago, in retirement, I renewed my acquaintance with old classmates. Through them I found Helen's Email address. I wrote eventually, and we exchanged a few notes. She went to Texas A&M and married, but never had children. She divorced and remarried a fellow younger than we are. Helen has a responsible job now, and is separated from her second husband. They are still in love, but find it easier to live apart than together. Whatever life Helen and I might have had is gone forever. We both went on with our lives, and made what we could of them. I no longer dream of Helen, and I doubt that she ever dreamed of me. That's all right.

Natalie, my Xanthippe, is a jealous woman. I doubt that she ever knew that the one person in the entire world that she had to share "me" with was nothing more than an ancient phantom. No match at all, really.

Okay, maybe it was his bandmates and my friends yelling "Danger! Danger!" all the time and not scruples on either of our parts.

<sigh>

It would have been mad good....

I remember one guy I met on vacation. He was in the Special Forces in the military and coincidentally happened to live not far from me. He was so hot and as you described took my breath away. He seemed to feel the same about me and we hung out all night. After the clubs closed he wanted me to go for a late night swim, believe me I really wanted to go, but had to side on caution as I did not really know him and he could be a crazy rapist or murder and besides being Special Forces he could snap me like a twig, I declined. He did take my info and stuff, but we never hooked up.

I haven't thought of him for a while, but you just reminded me. Ahhhhh, was he hot. Even though I am happily married, I would like to get a glimpse of him again.

Ok, Here's my "naked guy" date story:

I met a guy at the sporting goods store I used to manage back in '98...he was this big, buff, good looking guy... 36/never been married. He was into the triathlons, etc, that I was also into...his family owns a huge real estate investment corp. here in Houston...so he's a well known guy.

He would come into the store and ask me to go running, etc. I always chickened out...I'm kind of a "granola girl" type...and he was really wealthy and welll known. Plus, I had not been out on a date in years...(newly divorced).

Well, one night I did go out with him...we ended up back at his house...I had a couple glasses of wine...which quickly got me toasted. I went to the bathroom and when I came back...all of the lights were out...except the tv...I'm looking around the den and I couldn't see him anywhere...UNTIL I looked over onto the couch! One word. BOING. This guy was buck naked and laying on his side looking at me...Oh God, I can still picture him! He looked like a greek statue. Totally built. Very tempting.

I'm a good girl, and I collected my keys, purse, and with him completely apologizing all over himself...I drove home.

I still see him around at races and stuff...hee hee.

I'd say that fellow was just a bit too presumptious, PamO! He obviously wasn't used to being turned down.

Yeah for you!

yeah, yay for me! or yay for me?

he really looked fabulous.

there was a little remark i heard garry shandling say one night years ago...(i think he was filling in for jay leno)...anyway, this gorgeous actress comes out and tries to kiss him and he says "no thanks, i'm married."

he then leads into a little ditty about marriage and how he never gets to kiss his wife anymore...now that they are married.

does the great sex/kissing/fun end when you marry?

Oh man, Pam, how did you not stop from laughing. It reminds me of the Seinfeld episode - He took it out.

Also reminds me of a date in college, not quite as extreme, but it kind of falls in a similar category. I was out with this guy a couple of times. We stopped outside in his car and were kissing and stuff. Then he handed me something. Being a little naïve, a guess, I did not realize what it was. I looked at it and it was this little square package. I lifted it a little higher so I could see what it was - when I realized that it was a condom, I screamed and dropped it. I do not think that was the reaction he expected.

Hi Linkat, I was shocked at the time. I have had a good time telling that over and over. I'm sure, just as Boomerang pointed out, that he was not turned down often.

One side note is that a couple days later he e-mailed me to say that he was sorry but he "did not want to date someone who had kids...but that he's sure there are more guys like him out there that would be more than happy to"...blah!

Another funny date: another wealthy guy(We had the same last name, so I thought, what the hell...I'll go.) , average looking, had kids himself, early 40's..(I was 28 at the time)...we go out to lunch to a really fancy restaurant..(the kind of place where afterwards I'm heading over to the Burger King so that I can get filled up! arghh.) anyway, he's asking me deep questions like: "What do you want out of life?" (ummm, world peace and end all hunger? umm, I dunno, it's only lunch...) "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?"

After a really tough lunch filled with philosophy, he grabs my hand and he looks me in the eyes and he says this: "Pam, you are a lucky girl...(gazes into my glazed eyes)..and I have some good news."

I was thinking..."Oh man, am I on tv? Is this a joke?" "Did I win a million dollars?"
I start looking around for a tv crew or something similar. I said, "Oh really? What's the good news?"

He says: "I'd like to see you again."

I did laugh that time and I thought to myself...what a let down!

What a loser and how boring, PamO! I went on a one and only blind date. I figured it was o-k since my friend arranged it and would a friend fix you up with some one you would not at least like as a friend so I figured what the h*ll. When I first walked in and saw him, I was disappointed. He was not the least bit attractive to me. He was basically out of shape and where, especially during that point in time, I was working out 4 or 5 days a week so right there we did not have fitness in common. But I figured, give him a shot he may be nice or fun.

We had a couple of drinks and then went out to dinner. At dinner, he ordered a bottle of wine. I happened to mention I liked champagne just in conversation so he ordered a bottle of that. Only to find out after they poured it he said none for me, I don't like champagne. Well, I really could not drink a whole bottle by myself. He proceeded to drink a good amount (my guess was to calm nerves, as he didn't appear to do this normally). After having a few, he sorts of leans toward me and says something along the lines of …I make a lot of money so if you were to date me, you wouldn't need to worry about anything. Obviously he did not know me well at all as this was a distinct turn off. I am extremely independent and I can take care of myself, financially and otherwise, thank you very much. It was a damn good thing, he was a cousin of my friend or he would have heard an ear full. Instead I kept my mouth shut and drank some damn good champagne and got a bit tipsy myself. Needless to say there was no second date.

hee hee. good one, linkat.

sorry bi-polar~! didn't mean to take over.

i know there have got to be some other a2kers with as story about "the one that got away..."

c'mon! where are you guys?

the one that got away from me is still drop dead gorgeous.....has plenty of money....but has a cocaine habit the size of Columbia.......that cancels out everything even if I wasn't in love with squinney......when you reach a certain age and you're still doing coke by the ton...well....there's a problem....