Healing for the Heart

I did something yesterday that I never thought I would do in this lifetime... I googled my first love's name (we were 18 when I knew him... ancient history), learned that he has his own law firm, and here's the daring part, I emailed him.

Not only did I email him, but I was transparent about my disability and the bumps and bruises I've endured along life's journey. Until recently, when I thought about old boyfriends, the thought of running into them was terrifying. I didn't want them to know how close they came to being saddled with a woman with a disability had things progressed in our relationships towards matrimony.

My old flame was sweet as pie. Although he's happily married, we shared a few email exchanges wherein we reminisced about the tender romance we had shared, asked one another for forgiveness for our lack of maturity and the mistakes we made that hurt one another, congratulated ourselves for turning out to be fairly decent human beings, and for a couple of emails, remembered what it felt like to be 18, foolish and in love.

It was tender, and I very much got the sense that he didn't give a second thought to my disability as a detractant. If anything, he was admiring of how I've lived my life. Rather than being relieved that he dodged the bullet, I got the sense that were we both single, the old flame could be fanned. We both agreed that while it had been lovely to reconnect, it wouldn't be wise to continue corresponding.

He broke my heart at 18. In a few sweet and tender emails over a 24 hour period, we returned to that long-ago time, and found healing and closure. The almost magical gift of a few brief exchanges: I find myself looking at the world with an 18 year-old's eyes... full of hope, expectancy, and unlimited possibilities. It's pretty cool to have the outlook of an 18 year-old coupled with the wisdom of an almost 50 year-old.

Thank you, Scott. Love, Me