Old Flames Never Go Out

When you love someone, they're with you forever. You never forget them, nor do you ever really let go of them. No matter how hard you try, it's impossible to completely move on. I have been lucky enough to experience this twice in my lifetime. But that just means I've suffered twice the pain of losing them.

Many of you don't remember Michael. Michael was my first love. I've probably told some people I didn't really love him. I've told others that I did. The truth is that I really did love Michael. He was real, he was honest, and most of all he trusted me. He confided in me. He also betrayed me. He left me hanging and just disappeared. Why? I have no idea. Maybe I scared him with what might have been considered "puppy love." Or maybe he loved me enough to scare himself. I don't know. It's been 3 years and still no word. Where did you go, Michael? Are you still at Cambridge University doing your research? Have you forgotten my promise to you? Do you even care?

I met Michael through one of my old roommates. We became fast friends, and were soon meeting regularly for coffee. Then going to see movies. Cooking dinners. Hanging out. Going to parties. Clubbing. We got close, but I was afraid. I was afraid that if I let him in, our friendship would be ruined. I had no basis for this fear, but we all know that fear is irrational. What if we broke up? What if he cheated on me? What if, what if, what if. It wasn't long before my reluctance to get closer pushed him into the arms of another guy. Before I knew it, I was jealous. That should be me, dammit. I should be the one staying overnight. I should be the one getting that kiss goodnight. You know how it goes. Soon enough I was concocting plans to split them up. But I got to know the boyfriend. I started to like him. He was nice. Innocent. Pure. I was sick with confusion.

They eventually split up on their own. It was around this time that Michael applied for the Rhodes Scholarship. He made it all the way to the final interview, but was turned down for another proposal. It was devastating. If you've ever known someone who's applied for the prestigious Rhodes Scholarship then you know how rigorous and stressful the process can be. I stood by Michael through it all. I was there, when he needed help.

The following year he applied again. Once more through the hoops and mazes, the applications, the personal statements, the interviews. He was exhausted, but buoyed by his continued success at each level of elimination. And once again he made it to the top. He bought a new suit, cleaned up his look, stood tall and walked into the final interview. I had planned a dinner party for him to celebrate his making it this far at Bice, a classy restaurant on Sherbrooke Street. His best friends would be in attendance, and I would be there next to him. The interview was early in the morning. It wasn't until shortly before the party that I finally got a hold of Michael. He had spent the entire afternoon in a theater, watching movie after movie after movie until he couldn't sit there anymore. The news had come early and for the second year in a row he was turned down.

I couldn't support him on my own, so I literally dragged him over to the restaurant. We arrived early, and sat patiently until the others arrived. Dinner was fabulous, but draped in a mood no one could shake. Michael came home with me that night. I was afraid to leave him alone, for even the shortest time. What happened that night is between us, but suffice it to say that I did everything I possibly could.

Soon thereafter, he was accepted into the Commonwealth scholarship and would be studying at Cambridge in the UK. The months flew by until that moment where we said goodbye. Things had changed rapidly since his acceptance into the program, and the parting was difficult. That was the last time I ever saw or heard from Michael.

My second encounter with love was at a bar. Unity, to be precise. Vin picked me. The rest of the story is written elsewhere, and need not be told again. Just know that since then he has been travelling around Europe, doing modeling gigs for various companies. And unlike Michael, Vin keeps in touch. He writes occasionally, to tell me of the adventures he's had, the jobs he's worked, and the places he's visited. I miss him, but I'm happy for him. Happy that he has found success at what he does best, and that he is enjoying every minute of it.

Life is about experience. We live a short period of time, but we meet so many people. I learned from my mistakes with Michael. I learned to just let go and let my emotions guide my actions. Vin left on a high note. It was sad, and it hurt a lot, but it was also joyous. Because we tasted the purest of feelings, and were able to share it with each other.

I miss both of you, and I think of you often.