It is strange how when I least expect it my past seems to sneak up on me and break through to this new life I have made for myself. It is a song drifting through the air that will stir up memories or an expression a kid uses when describing something to their friends as I walk by on my way to work. Sometimes it is these soft bursting moments, soap bubbles that used to pop and shower us with a fine mist. These bubbles would make me laugh but they could also make my eyes sting and tear. Other times the past is not as subtle as this. When there is no misty glow around the edges, giving you the illusion that it was all a peaceful and happy time.
For some reason, almost two years after moving back to Toronto, my past is creeping up through the cracks of my life. Some of them are gorgeous flowers breaking through and others are nasty little insects that I would really prefer to watch for a moment or two before I kill them.
I’m unsure what to make of this new facet of my life.
There is a guy that I new back in my partying days. I was by no means a good girl. Not as bad as some, but I liked to have my…fun. He really liked me. I would by no means say love, but it was a pretty intense crush for him. I knew this and did my best to not to take advantage of it. It finally got to the point where I thought I would give him a chance because he could be a nice guy. I agreed to spend the day with him.
He was incredibly romantic in his efforts to win my heart. I remember a surprise picnic in the park, a moment that was surely meant to be in some perfect chick flick. It should have left me weak in the knees, swooning for him. But instead it just left me with guilt because, as lame as it sounds and even though the movies have made the words a cliché, I just could not see him as anything more than a friend. I was honest. I truly did not want a boyfriend. I didn’t want to be tied down. Weeks later he drove me to a party where I ended up making out with some other guy. He left in a fit of anger and I could not blame him. But in my drunken state I really didn’t care.
Later the guilt weighed so heavily on me I sought him out to try to make him understand. We talked and sorted things out as much as they could be. Eventually we drifted apart. I stopped partying, went back to school and that was that. I didn’t think about him too often except when I reminisced with a friend.
Now, almost 10 years later, I see him around town. Usually at a certain type of show. The first couple of times I tried to say hi but he simply ignored me. Now it is pretty obvious that he refuses to even acknowledge my existence. He knows Gary and will say hello to him, but they are by no means close. For some reason I don’t really understand, this bothers me. It’s like a splinter, you pick at it repeatedly until it becomes infected. I suppose I should just let it work itself out.
I wonder if I hurt him more than I originally thought so many years ago. I was a different girl then. Young, naive and amazed that guys found me attractive, much less would want to date me. How could I choose to be with one person when I didn’t even know what I wanted or most importantly who I was? I had not experienced anything sexually until those first years of university when I tried to experience it all.
Maybe this is not even about me. It could be he simply does not want to associate with anyone from that time in his life. I don’t know. I could say that I’m seeking forgiveness for my past behaviour but really I do not feel any guilt for what I’ve done. My experiences then has made me who I am today, and frankly I like who I am. They have made me appreciate my love for Gary and the way he treats me. They have made me stronger and wiser.
So why is the past making my eyes sting?
