Bear With Me ... Again

It starts with bit of a downer, but it is essential for the rest of the story, so please bear with, because it is serious stuff. 

When you get to the age of twenty four and you haven't met a guy you're the slightest bit interested in, or anyone who is interested in you, you begin to wonder. Am I ever meant to have a man in my life? Oh there are a hundred doubts and misgivings that run through your mind. Is it me? Am I really that unattractive? Am I not girlfriend material? Am I just meant to be alone? It's depressing and upsetting. But you manage to talk yourself round. You're not that desperate to be in a relationship to date just any guy. You're happy single, sure you could probably pick up a few guys if you wanted to, but you're independent and you don't chase men. So you don't force it. You decide to sit back and wait for it to happen whenever, if ever, it does. 

That was me. Then I went on holiday and met a guy. I am not going to go into the particulars. Digging up memories is painful, even now, so excuse me for not wanting to relive the past. It was ironic, the first guy I ever seriously fell for could not speak English and I couldn't speak his language. He lived a thousand miles away. Our entire acquaintance was nine months and that how long our relationship lasted. I never saw him again after I returned from my holiday, but we were in touch and despite being cautious, hey this is men, and holding back, I did fall in love. 

Why did I love him? Especially when he was nothing I assumed my type was. He wasn't well educated, didn't have a job and wasn't finacially stable. It was because I hadn't been invisible to him. With all the difficulties opposing us, we made it work. I was happy. He was sweet and romantic. Life was a better place for his presence in my life. And despite being a feminist, after years of feeling I was still a teenage girl, I think it took a man to make me feel like a woman. 

I can't say it was all sunshine and rainbows. It was a long distance relationship and as you can imagine that poses umpteen problems and issues. We quarrelled and each of us behaving at times like disgruntled and petulant children. I thought about ending the relationship a few times, but knew I would regret it. I wasn't an idiot. I could see the type of man he was and I wasn't going to throw that away. 

Here were two people who came from very different worlds, backgrounds, lives and yet were seeking a way of being together. The passion was there, believe me. I hadn't felt that way about any man before. Suddenly, the fears of loneliness began to melt away. He had given me hope and a future. Things were looking up. 

But even of the wisest of us cannot see ahead or predict the events of tomorrow. Nine months to the day since I hugged him goodbye, felt his body so close mine, saw the smile on his face and heard his friendly adieu, nine months later, my heart was breaking, tears streaking my face, my world spinning. He had died. He woke that morning, and by nightfall he had taken his own life. 

I have never felt such agony and devastation. I felt like I was like falling, my hands flailing out, but no one to catch me. I feel it now as I write this. The pain of his loss hit me hard. I accepted it, that he was gone, but the hurt, the grief would not leave me for months. I was heartbroken. To lose someone you love and dreamed of sharing a life with, your heart cannot bear it. No, we did not have a physical relationship, but I cared so much for him, and I only realised how much when the ache in my chest wouldn't cease, cliche I know, but true. 

The next morning, I woke not wanting to exist in a world where he wasn't any more. I had no idea how I would cope, how could I conceive leading a normal life again. I never wanted to love again. So many emotions, feelings, thoughts. And yet, I could see clearly. In a way, he had set me free. I know had he lived, I never would have given up on him and there would have been many difficult, stressful and frustrating days ahead. Perhaps I would have put my effort into the relationship than into my life and work. Longing to be with him, I would have put many of my own dreams aside. 

Do not mistake me, I wish he were still alive. He was a beautiful person, selfless in many ways, loved by many. I saw so much hope in him. But he had demons, demons who would not let him be. He has found his peace now. I am reconciled to his choice, though it still breaks my heart to think of him alone, deciding to end it all. You don't want anyone you love to feel such despair. 

I owe so much to him. I am not the same girl I was when I first met him. His love made me feel beautiful and worthy. I found confidence and strength. I am a woman who has loved and lost and who has emerged with her optimism intact and a greater compassion for those around her. The road has not been easy and my friends and sister will testify to that. I have cried for him for hours late at night, not for my loss but for his, that he is gone. 

To lose your first love like that could have destroyed me, but I gradually found reasons to be happy again. Simple things. And then I began to see my future without him. I even started to get excited about meeting another guy. New possibilities opening up in front of me. I was changing. I let go of a lot. Having lost something so precious, I was no longer afraid of what life could throw at me. I knew I was strong but I also felt freer than I had ever done before. I worried less and took comfort in the fact that I had been loved and I had loved. There's a power in love that cannot be defeated. Even from beyond the grave, it nutures and soothes, and gives hope.

I will always love him, I will never forget him and I shall treasure what we had forever. I think there are many couples who are together every day and yet do not know love. He and I were apart our entire relationship. We never held hands, we never kissed, we never made love. But we loved. Don't try and tell me differently. Because these tears that choke me and make my nose run as I think about him, they are real, they are tears of pain and deepest sadness, they are tears of heartbreak. They are tears for a sweet man who gave me a glimpse of a beautiful world; for a man who loved me for me. Despite all his faults and mistakes, that will always redeem him. He loved me and for that, he is a hero in my heart.

Now don't worry, this whole book isn't going to be depressing and me mourning for what was. That was just setting the scene, giving you some background info, so you understand. This story isn't about him, who I lost. That story is too precious to share, it's all I have left of him. This story is born of that story. No more explanations, I promise. We'll get onto the action and the dialogue now. I promise, no more false starts.