Time Really Flys

About a year ago I sent a letter to a girl I know, who I’ve admired and liked for a long time.  In the letter I confessed my feelings to her, and that was pretty much the first time I’ve ever done anything like that.

That was a year ago.  Time really flys.

Somehow, I don’t feel much different than I did then.  Outside of a few emails back and forth, I’ve pretty much lost touch with her.  Even so, even after a year, I feel exactly same.

Unrequited love is something else.  It’s certainly one of the cruelest things that happens in this world.  It leaves you dizzy and tired as it happens, and downcast when you think on it, even a year after the fact.

At one point I used to tell myself that if you don’t think on something, eventually it will leave your thoughts, and you’ll no longer desire the thing in question.  I think I was mistaken on this issue.

I think all that amounts to is filling your mind with different things.  Since it is only able to process and handle so much information at a time, thoughts on the particular thing you’re indirectly avoiding get pushed away into some sort of storage area.  Your mind is just temporarily occupied thinking on something else, for the time being.

If you genuinely admired something, or someone, years ago, and if you’re honest with yourself, and don’t give yourself to hatred and denial, chances are you feel the exact same way still today.

My grandma died about a year ago, and I was at the dinner table, alone with my grandfather.  He told me about a girl he fell in love with back 1950-something.  And no, it wasn’t my late grandma.    This was a girl who he referred to simply as “the beautiful thing”.

He was 18 years old, just out of school, and working in a cafeteria just prior to joining the U.S. Navy.  One of the waitresses there had a younger sister who visited the restaurant from time to time.

He mind seemed to leave the room as he retold the account of the “beautiful thing’s” entrance through the restaurant’s back door, and his nervous approach.  There was a pause, a smile came over his face, another pause, then he simply said, “And then we had coffee.”  I suppose the between events are embarrassing, even 50 years after the event.

Then he stopped the story, and assured me that he always loved my grandmother.  Always has, and always will.  I didn’t doubt him a bit.  I saw how he treated her, everyday.  He’s always been an example of how a good man should treat his wife.

I suppose you psychoanalysts out there could say he was regressing to a past time now that he’d lost my grandmother.  Maybe.  But if you ask me, I’d say he’s always loved the “beautiful thing”.

At some later point he visited the “beautiful thing”  and she told him to never come back.  He said from time to time, when he would lie in bed, he wondered what happened to that girl.  Was she doing well?  Was she happy?  And later, was she still alive?

So almost sixty years later he made contact with her.  Her former husband had died a long while ago, she was a widow for a long while, and now has recently remarried to a Baptist minister.

Sixty years later… Wow.  Still thinking of her.  Now that grandma is gone, he no longer has to suppress the thoughts.

Will I be telling my grandkids, or possibly students, about my own “beautiful thing”, and my experience with her, fifty to sixty years from now?   That’d really be something.

As for my own “beautiful thing”, I’m sure she’s off  somewhere, and I’m sure she’s still amazing.   I’m sure she’s still beautiful. I’m sure she still speaks her mind, is dependable, intelligent, and is still really kindhearted down inside.

Some fall in love with an ideal in their own mind and project that onto another.  Those people love themselves, not the other person.

Some think and daydream on a thing until the thought process becomes habitual, and linked to each day to day activity.  These people suffer from an obsessive-compulsive disorder, and mistake it for love.

Some have cruel events happen to them, and throughout the experience come to learn how much the person they left behind means to them.  These people regress to an earlier, happier time, in search for a now missing security.

Some are lonely or desperate.  Some are just running from their problems.  Some are looking for a provider.  Some marry so they can have children.  Some get sucked in by sex appeal.  Some mistake sympathy for love.  Some look for a mate to complete them.

None of these describe me.  I suppose I was guilty of wanting to get to know her  better.  Still am really.  Well, and mayyybbbbeeee just a lliiitttlleeeee guilty of finding her absolutely gorgeous.  I’m human too.  Heh.  🙂

Enjoy the good times, and remember the good memories.  Life’s way too short to worry about everything that goes wrong.

4 thoughts on “Time Really Flys”

  1. This article was a really interesting read about how such memories of unrequitted love can become so imprinted. I really hope that will not be the case for me. I want to move on with life and leave this (which is now the past) behind. I think it was obsessive compulsive disorder for my case.

    Do you still think about your “beautiful thing”?

    1. Wow, I haven’t seen this post in a long time. Yeah, I still think about her from time to time, though I wouldn’t say it’s very often. I have a close friend who still hangs out with her younger sister, and sometimes her name is brought up. If that wasn’t the case, I don’t know how much I would’ve thought of her. There is something inside me left behind, but it’s not romantic in any way. It’s more a wondering how she’s doing, not unlike my grandfather’s feelings. That hasn’t left me in five years, so I doubt they ever will.

      Nowadays when thoughts of her do come up, I think that it’s been such a long time, she may be a totally different person. Five years is a long time. Before long it’ll be ten. Then twenty.

  2. As you are still wondering about how she’s doing, have you ever thought about contacting her just to ask her (as in cases of old acquaintances) how she’s doing? Or would you rather prefer to keep things in the past as they are? Or perhaps one day you will look her up and contact her just like your grandfather did?

    1. I don’t have any plans to ever contact her again. I have similar sorts of thoughts toward all my old friends who I haven’t seen or heard from in a long time, so it’s not really all that special. I don’t think she’d want me to anyway.

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