Synchronicity’s a bitch

Ok. So yesterday I blog about a first kiss. Of sorts.

And then. Not 2 hours later. The first man I ever kissed walked into my office. Just  20 minutes after I pressed “publish”. Told me about his divorce and cried about his children. And asked me to be friends with him again.

I don’t think I can.

I was 12 and he was 22. He lived next door to my dad. He was urbane. And had a leather sofa. And drank Nachtmusiek on ice. And when he kissed me, it was like I lost my anchor to the ground.

But I was 12 and he was 22. I was old for my age, very bright, precocious. But still innocent. And I was too young for the decisions he didn’t even realize were an issue. We couldn’t go out together. Be seen together. Do the normal things a girl with her first boyfriend does; drink cokes and blush and giggle. It was more grown up than that. And in ways that are impossible for me to articulate, while it felt right at the time, it felt wrong later.

He called me two years ago, out of the blue. And all the rage came bubbling up. Not for what we were or what it was, but for his part in my loss of innocence. He never touched me inappropriately, let me be clear. But the whole relationship was inappropriate. And he should have known better. We talked. And talked. But I didn’t want to meet. I didn’t want to reconnect to a part of my past that still wasn’t understood.

But it was impetus. Impetus to sort my shit out. To understand why I love the men I do. And how much of who I am is wrapped up in that girl who loved the attention, the difference he gave me in a very ordinary suburban childhood.

And it took me a lot of work to unravel and understand.

And I forgave him. For what he was. Who he was. What he didn’t do.

And forgot.

Until yesterday. When he was there. In reception. Wearing regret and a leather jacket.



6 thoughts on “Synchronicity’s a bitch

  1. Martin says:

    Wow. I don’t really know what to say…

  2. One of those testing moments in life when the correct decision is essential. You made the right decision didn’t you. I trust you to have done so.

    The bugger of it is is that you alone have to make the decision. Nobody else can. And it is lonely at this time.

    But we are here for you still if needed.

  3. Dolce says:

    @ Martin > thanks. Nothing really to say. The voices of the past rise up sometimes. Catch you unawares. I find it strange that it seems to happen just went I open myself up to the world again. Just when I’m finding the courage to be open. Myself.

    @ Bertie > Angel. Thank you. And yes, I’ve made the right decision. But I feel selfish in making it. And strong at the same time. *shrug*. Being a grown up hey?

  4. Jean Pant says:

    In some inexplicable way, episodes like this one evokes an anger that cannot be understood years after the memory faded. Do not internalise this anger by granting him a chance to violate what took you so long to replenish after what he was to you. He made you lose your anchor to the ground, now dont let him anchor you to feelings that you have moved on from.

    He is the selfish one for asking you to be friends with him just so he can hush his own conscience.

    Beautiful writing by the way 🙂

  5. As you say… life always comes back to find you. Bitch that it is. Facing the demons and all of that.

    And yeah… 22 year old should have treated the situation & a 12 year old girl with more respect. But that is an ideal. But it still means you get to be angry.

  6. dolceii says:

    @ jean > The more I think about it, the more I agree with you. This is not something I want. I don’t need the drama, and I certainly don’t need another friend (especially one who’s carrying so much baggage). Thanks Ms Pant – you can like to rock!

    @ Champers > Exactly. I’m not pissed with him now. I’m pissed with him then. I knew fuck all at 12 and even less at 22, so I’m willing to take the stance that we both made some seriously stupid mistakes. But still, he was the grown up. He shoulda known better. And thanks. I am angry.

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