Our Story...

We've all got one. Well, the ninety-something percent of us who 1) aren't sheltered and/or virginal, and 2) didn't marry our high school sweetheart to live happily ever after. You probably have one yourself. I'm talking about the ex. The one you still think about sometimes and wonder what he/she is up to. The one who, in a different time or place, could have been your "happily ever after."

Mine was Carroll. We met online several years ago, and I fell for her the moment I laid eyes on her. She was a little distant at first, but a hell of a kisser, and I was apparently the first internet date she'd ever had. We had a few dates and a lot of fun, but we both had pretty severe cases of ODS at the time, and decided we'd be better off as friends (which, of course, when you've only been on a couple dates with someone, usually means "have a nice life -- you're cool, but not for me"). Somehow, though, I had a gut feeling that we'd meet again.

And I was right. A few months later, we ran into each other at a big new year's bash in DC. We made small talk, said how great it was to see each other again, and went back to our respective friends. At about 12:30, our paths crossed, and since neither of us had celebrated the new year in classic lip-lock style, we shared a slightly drunken, slightly-post midnight kiss or two and flirted for the rest of the night. After that we started talking again. Nothing major, just occasional IM acquaintances. We kept up on the major events in each other's lives.

Flash forward about 6 months. I'd just had a tumultuous breakup and lost the majority of my social circle in the process. So the next time I saw her online, I explained the situation and said that we should hang out, cause I could use some new friends (guy translation: "you're the one that got away and I'd like to fix that, but friends would be nice, too"). We started hanging out and getting closer. While we were a bit flirty, it was a platonic flirty, and I assumed (after feeling the vibe out a bit) it would stay that way, but she could definitely make a very good friend. I discovered karaoke, she started coming with me, and we soon formed a huge group for our weekly song-fests at the local bar. That was pretty much the only time we saw each other, but we talked a lot, and developed a strong bond. In fact, she became my best friend.

The next year, a little before Halloween, something interesting happened. We realized that we were the only two people in our respective social circles who really got into doing scary Halloween stuff. We went to see a scary movie together one night and ended up at my house, drinking, making out, and watching more scary movies on DVD. The next morning, things were awkward. We decided (again) that we should just be friends, but this time, it seemed a lot more like lip service. We hung out three or four times that week, and again the week after, getting more physical and date-y the whole time, and by the end of November, she called from vacation to tell me how much she missed me, I admitted the same, and we decided to do the exclusive bf/gf thing.

I'm not going to say everything was always perfect, because that's not realistic. We had our ups and downs, as everyone does, but what really amazed me was the complete and total lack of negative drama in the relationship. In the almost two years we dated, I can count the number of fights we had on one hand and still have fingers left over. And the majority of those were alcohol fueled, as opposed to being real issues needing resolution. It was by far the healthiest, happiest, and easiest relationship I'd ever been a part of. People always say that you have to work at it, but we really didn't seem to need to. It just happened.

Over time, things got pretty serious. We not only met the parents, but started visiting and hanging out with them. We became known as "LMNt and Carroll," instead of "LMNt" and "Carroll". We spent a few holidays together at her parents' house, and even slept in the same bed when we were there (something she and they had sworn would never happen until she was married to the guy). Conversations changed from "if we get married someday" to "when we get married." We spent almost every night in the same bed, and started seriously discussing moving in together and/or getting engaged. This was the first relationship she'd ever had (and is still the only one) that had lasted more than three months. Ever.

Then one day I realized things were different somehow. She seemed a bit distant. We didn't talk the way we used to. She was spending less time with me and more at happy hours with coworkers or friends. She stopped inviting me along. Somehow, this wonderful thing we'd built seemed to be slipping away. I mentioned it, and she said she wasn't sure, she hadn't noticed anything different, but she'd think about it and get back to me. We set a date to come back to the subject and talk.

(I'm sure y'all can see what's coming here.)

When the day rolled around, I said that I thought we were losing the passion. That we needed to have more fun together and take a few steps back from the serious stuff. She said she didn't want to be with me anymore. That she'd been trying to understand why she wasn't ready to move in together yet, and while she hadn't figured it out, the fact that she wasn't (after how long we'd been together) and that it weighed on her so much were signs that I wasn't the one. Being an intuitive guy, I'd kind of assumed this was where things were going and came prepared. We did the obligatory stuff exchange on the spot. She cried. I didn't. That wouldn't happen until the next day.

She said that I'd been her best friend for years and she still wanted to be friends. I told her I'd need some time to process things, but that I agreed, and I'd get in touch with her after I'd sorted myself out. And after a month or two, I did. We hung out once and talked on the phone or over email a few times, but things were never quite the same. Eventually, she stopped even responding to phone calls or emails. I wasn't trying to get back together, and I didn't pressure her to even do the friends thing, but I was (and still am) extremely disappointed to lose the friendship. There may have been a drunk dial or three since.

So today I'm feeling a bit nostalgic. I'm way beyond considering her date-worthy -- that'll never happen again. From what I've heard, she's changed quite a bit, and is not at all the same woman I fell for. I still miss what we had at times, though, even though my romantic life is going absolutely swimmingly at the moment.

Why is this in my mind today? Well, I've got plans this weekend where there's a pretty decent chance I'll run into her and a group of her friends (who used to be our friends, but she knew them first, so she got custody). I'm not quite sure how I'll handle it if that happens. I mean, on the outside, I'm sure I'll respond properly. Make small talk, have a lot of fun with my friends (and my date) and not seem phased. Internally though? I don't know. I'm kinda keeping my fingers crossed that she's not there. But at the same time, a little piece of me sort of hopes she is.