People who are close to me and I mean really really close to me know I had one true love of my life. None of them know him personally. He is an entire book of my life that didn’t overlap with the people who orbit me now. I rarely talk about him because it is so painful. I have spent years trying to crawl back into the cocoon of bliss that I have only felt with him. I don’t think I will ever find my way back into the nexus. Sometimes you can never go home.
We met when I was a sophomore in college. I was dating the guy all parents want you to be with. N was handsome, athletic, insanely intelligent, came from an excellent family, and was studying to be a doctor. (He is a surgeon now)We were the proverbial golden couple. One night my suite mates had invited a bunch of guys for an impromptu party. When I walked in, there was pandemonium going on around the house and in the middle of all the ruckus was D. He was calmly watching all of the tomfoolery as if it were normal. For some reason I was drawn to him. Like. Gravitational pull. Tractor beam from the Starship Enterprise. D was engaging, comical, and most of all very worldly. It didn’t take long for me to find ways to spend more time with him. UNTIL my Mr. Perfect Boyfriend decided to surprise me on “Sweetest Day” . (Who invented Sweetest Day anyway? It is a dumb idea) I thought they were going to rip each other apart but luckily the skirmish ended peacefully. It was not long after that, I got kicked out of the dorm for having boys in my room. Imagine that.

In my hurried move, D and I were not able to stay in touch. It felt like the world was ending. My parents rented an apartment for me close to campus and my life went on. D ever left my mind. It took about six months, but I found him. We spent so much time together he practically moved in. Well. He DID move in. My parents figured it out and decided to stop stroking checks for my upkeep. We made our relationship formal and split the bills. College kids are not the wealthiest, but we were happy. Really really happy. Like in the Allegory of the Cave, we experienced things together. Grew together. Taught each other things. We could laugh for hours about nothing and talk without uttering words. We ate breakfast for dinner and played games till he let me win. Our humble apartment was our Utopia our Shangri-La.

D is nothing like me on the surface. He is from Brooklyn. D listened to rap and I was all about Dave Matthews Band. We always opened our minds to each other’s world. D met my parents, my brother, and experienced my lifestyle in the suburbs. I went home with him to NYC and met all of his friends and family. He even entrusted me with his twin siblings once. Only ONCE. People didn’t understand why we were together till they SAW us together. It made sense like fried chicken and waffles. It sounds ridiculous but tastes amazing.

All good things come to an end. We had the best communication in the world, but due to all sorts of circumstances that broke down. It caused the destruction of us. I moved out. I moved on. He moved on. I can remember the last time I saw him. There was such sadness in his eyes. He was the first and the last time I ever put 100% of myself into a relationship. Since then, 60% is about all I am willing to bestow. I have steeled myself against people. I never let men get close to me. I think the part of me that is loving and affectionate is locked away. Like Miss Havisham’s wedding room, certain emotions are in a rotting room never to be used again.

I can’t blame him for any of this. I just know I will never love anyone like I loved him. To this date, I have never loved anyone else. He gave me 5 of the happiest years of my life. I can say D has set the bar so high no man has ever been able to jump over it. He is so incredibly kind, honorable, giving, loving, intelligent, and funny. D is everything a person aspires to be. The type of guy who restores your faith in humanity. A guy you are proud to say is your friend and take home to your family. He made me strive to be a better person through his actions rather than lectures. I have dated prototypes of D for years. A guy who sort of looked like him or a guy from Brooklyn… All types of components of him all to no avail. Perhaps I am crying over spilled milk, but he is the only man worth my tears.

I hate how my love for you penetrates my walls. They have been carefully constructed so that no man could ever locate the interior of my soul. The place in me which is supple, yielding, malleable. My Achilles location. The place which can destroy me. My love for you is eroding at my soul. It kills me, then like the breeze off the ocean after a summer rain it refreshes me. How can that be? Is this our yin and yang? During this life am I on the path of redemption for transgressions which I have done to you in past ones? Should my heart ache so much this time? I would gladly pay for my past sins. Just let this fog lift. Provide me with a destination. The quest through endless fog is draining my mystical energy. I keep fortifying my walls and yet you leap over them effortlessly, bringing the dreaded fog with you. It is thick. It makes my eyes burn and my throat choke with words that I cannot tell you. Words I don't believe you want to hear. Words if given to you will allow you the weaponry to bring me down once and for all. So I build more walls while I am in the fog. Carrying heavy stones from ancient times.