“Is this the Rose from Elizabeth, High School?” He asked in a message sent via Facebook. It was him–my first love. It was him who took away my virginity, asking if it was “me” as though nothing special or sacred had ever happened between us. “Yes, Thorne, it is me, I responded.” Was I out of my mind? It had taken all my intention to overcome the extreme depression that overtook me when I decided it was best to end a relationship that consisted of me meeting him at his house in the morning, sexing, and then leaving for school. He had divorced recently, had one daughter who he said decided to stay with the mother and wanted nothing to do with him. “Where do you live?” He had asked.

“Miami.” I had responded.

“Oh boy. That’s a bummer. I have a nice cottage at Seaside Heights–thought maybe we could meet this weekend.”

Was he kidding? It had been more than 20 years since we last saw each other–a cold night in November, when I had told him I could not see him any more. He remained speechless as I had driven off into a light rain that became torrential. Now, he wanted to rediscover me. “I can’t do that.” The words spewed out of my mouth quickly.

“I understand. I guess we will rediscover each other on Facebook.”

I couldn’t believe what I was reading. Was I ready to rediscover him?

We had met during 7th grade, and became high school sweethearts. It was a volatile relationship.

He was a football player, well-known because he was so darned good-looking, always had some girl hanging by his side. I was a nobody, wall-flower type too shy to venture out of her little circle of nerdy friends until I met him. Love? Perhaps. It was more due to vanity–on my part, I honestly believe. This was one of the most popular guys at school, and he wanted me. I jumped into the abyss of the unknown world of high school football and cheerleading, his world, leaving my intellectual friends behind. It was a different world that I eventually knew I could not handle; I could not be what he needed. If I remained, it would be unfair not only for me, but for him also. I too wanted to believe as he did: He thought I was it–his future bride and mother of his children. Could he not see the sadness in my eyes? Could he not see that our quarrels were over his flirting ways, drugs and, yes, rock and roll? That’s what I had discovered about his world then.

What would I rediscover now? He was sexier than ever now by the looks of the pictures on Facebook.There he was surrounded by beautiful women, wine, his old buddies–all football players. Party, party, party. I wondered and pondered, concluding: “No. Thorne. Never. I cannot be that perfect, sexy female you always wanted me to be–couldn’t do it then and can’t do it now. Am I ready to rediscover you? I am ready to say no, but I wish you the best always.” He never responded nor did I ever hear from him again.

What would you have done?

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Comments
  1. steven1111 says:

    Men continue to amaze me with their boorishness and lack of empathy. Their cruelty. Good for you for being so strong and telling him to go, again. I would have done the same if any of my old bad boyfriends ever contacted me again after leaving me hurting, but you don’t need me to tell you that you did the right thing…
    peace, and thanks for visiting me ; ) It’s been awhile, eh? I hope you’re well…
    Steve

    Like

    • hakesplace says:

      Hi Steve! Yeah, the guy was amazing…found out he was engaged when he contacted me. Go figure! Yes. It sure has been a long time! Still was able to visit your garden…it’s lovely. Good to hear from you! Hope you are well also. 🙂

      Like

  2. […] I am ready…to see you again by Iliana C. Hakes-Martinez (hakescafe.com) […]

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  3. I would have done the same. I don’t think I can go back to the past, those people left my life for a reason and unless something clicks straight away, they don’t have a reason to come back into my life now especially via Facebook.

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  4. […] Musings, Posts for Fellow Followin' Bloggers, Psychology, Writing by Iliana C. Hakes-Martinez 0 Am I Ready to Rediscover you? by Iliana C. Hakes-Martinez. Share this:TwitterFacebookRedditTumblrEmailPrintPinterestStumbleUponDiggLinkedInLike this:LikeBe […]

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