37: The One that Got Away

A newspaper published a series of articles by authors on 'The One that Got Away' and also invited submissions from readers. So, here was mine:

Let me call her P.. How would I describe her to you? Think Darryl Hannah then and Gwyneth Paltrow now. Turning left at the mini-roundabout at the front of the KM Sports Centre in the late nineties, on our way to R.’s house for an evening of watching Blake’s Seven, she turned to me and said, ‘I’m sort of going out with R..’ ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘great, is he sort of going out with you?!’ ‘Yes.’

Pardon the grandiosity but I remember feeling like Steve Martin in Roxanne as Darryl Hannah praises another. Now that my life has moved on to being Kevin Spacey and American Beauty, I wonder if P. was The One.

She and I shared a house for a while, as friends. P. was generous, kind, dedicated – lovely in every way; I was an idiot. A middle class, Asian background, from a liberal and professional family. But I had seen relations marry German and American and English with not hugely pleasant results – perhaps shared culture was important for a lifelong relationship?

Other middle-aged, mixed marriage couples only appeared to socialise with other such couples, a sort of sub-community that felt isolated and depressing. My head full of career, wanting to ‘go back’, desiring to be a corporate high-flier; also afraid of threatening a friendship by suggesting something more.

Would it have worked out if I had overcome my fear and discovered that she felt the same affection? Close to twenty years later, I know what to look for in a relationship – support, common purpose, a haven, friendship, the confidence of doing right rather than the continuous fear of doing wrong, someone to find comfort in rather than feel lonely with. But, in their twenties, few know this and fewer still achieve that contentment. If we had stayed in the Midlands, UK, would I have, in time, resented the lack of the international career I craved? Had we moved, would she have pined for the career she would be leaving behind?

P. and I lost touch for many years as I moved countries, got married, had children but then we met up again. We meet rarely but text often. I find huge support in her and she says I am a good friend to her. Were I single I would drop at her feet to make up for lost time - if she would have me. Would I send this to her as a letter – no, for fear of threatening a friendship I value deeply. If this is published, would I send her a link? No, but, strangely enough, I might well print out and proffer on meeting next time. As a tribute, as a thank you.

Please don’t be angry with me. I love you from the bottom of my heart, wish you nothing but the best and thank you for being in my life. That evening, as we turned left, I was braver (and more of a coward) than ever before and, P., you need to see Roxanne or Cyrano de Bergerac to understand that line. Xx

Annonymous

How I dream of a week or two away with one who gives me confidence that life is ok, content and something to appreciate. A Mediterranean town maybe, meandering down cobbled streets, pool, relaxing spa, a good book, gentle talk.


Just a bit of calm

Note from December 2019: Interesting how narratives change. In browsing through old posts, I came across this - Post 125. Though I remain in love with P., even if she did reciprocate, I wonder if I will have the energy to be in a relationship. Is it possible to be the most intimate of friends and yet live independent lives? I hope so but just friendship is the most valuable.  xx