Everything (revised)

Everything

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August in central Virginia is as predictable as the fall of Rome or the rise of democracy. Hot and humid. Enough so that any strenuous activity will cause one to stew in his own juices. Then, there is the ever present good to excellent chance of severe afternoon thunderstorms.

None of this crossed his mind as he readied himself for this wonderful day. He was only sixteen and was going on his first date and with a beautiful woman. So what if it wasn’t technically a date and only as part of a church youth group going to an amusement park. He was just doing a favor for a friend. "Just stay with her and keep the dogs away?", his friend had asked. That, by no means, lessened the importance of his decisions as he carefully chose his wardrobe. Not that there was much to choose from. His choices were what his stepmother bought for him and what he had inherited from his stepbrother. All in all, not choice attire for such an auspicious occasion.

Wardrobe (or lack thereof ) notwithstanding, he was looking forward to the day. As the day began however, anxiety raised it’s ugly head. What if I can’t do it? and What if she doesn’t like me? What if, what if and more what ifs were the torrent raging through his adolescent mind. Yet, there was no need for concern. All through the morning, he stayed by her side and occasionally held her hand to keep the hounds at bay.

As the day wore on, he eventually crossed the line, something clicked, or whatever the appropriate cliché is for times like this. He became the dog she was supposed to be protected from. In his mind, being with her took on a new reality and in that reality, a bond beyond friendship had formed. The green-eyed monster that is envy had invaded his thoughts and actions. Holding her hand became much more than just a symbol. He could no longer tell where her hand ended and his began. Every touch sent sparks of something into his heart. His very existence began to be dependent on her every word or desire. He had it bad.

Thankfully, she was infinitely more mature and wise than he. She helped him realize the damage this infatuation could do to his friendship. She explained that what he was feeling was nothing more than a crush brought on by their close proximity to each other over the course of the day. He listened to her rationalization and, while not quite agreeing, decided to follow her advice. He resolved to behave and not make a fool of himself any more than he already had. He did well for the rest of his time at school. Keeping his thoughts to himself lest he hurt his friends. Well, except for the night he humiliated himself at a school dance. Other than to say there was alcohol involved, that is one story that will never be told.

Not long afterward, he left that high school and tried to get on with his life. After a series of nice and not-so-nice girlfriends, he eventually found a woman who won his heart and filled his life with joy. She helped him to not remember his forbidden high school crush (even though, he never really forgot). Unfortunately, as so many men do, he made a huge mistake. No, he didn’t cheat on her. Not physically, anyway. He almost did and was able to stop himself at pretty much the last minute. His guilt ate at him until the only recourse was to confess and plead for mercy. Which was the mistake?, he wondered. The almost affair or the telling of it? He guessed it depended on one’s point of view. In his opinion, the almost affair was the wrong. His confession and heartfelt apology seemed to be the beginning of the swift and brutal end. For months, his heart was comatose. Alive and beating yet, not living.

Eventually, he gathered himself together and started to get on with his life. Dating and somewhat enjoying being a part of the human race again. All the while, a new yet seasoned emptiness began to sink it’s corrupt roots even more deeply into his soul. Nary a one of his misadventures ( yes, that’s what most were) or romantic flings had any chance of filling the abysmal void within his core.

As always, time marches on. With it came the realization that through all his trials and tribulations, petty and not, there had always been one constant in his life. She was the only way that he’d ever be complete. She alone had the power to fulfill his life. She alone was the one desire. Nay, one passion that held sway over all others. A bright, perfect diamond buried beneath the garbage heap that his life had become. Was it flawless? No. But even those flaws contributed to polishing this gem to perfection.

Eventually, he did find someone to share his life with. However, the five year engagement and resulting ten year marriage did nothing to eradicate her memory. His wife once questioned how his eyes lit up whenever he heard the name. The worst was when he called out for her in his sleep. “Who the hell is she?”, his wife demanded. How could he respond? What did he tell the woman he pledged his life to before God, family, and friends about a woman who, for her and before that night, had never existed? Whom he once, maybe, had a perfect moment with?

December in the Mid-Atlantic region can be a fickle creature. Usually somewhat calm but prone to periods of savagery. The jet stream had dropped southward almost to Florida bringing with it a blast of Arctic air not seen in this early in the season for twenty years. The temperature plummeted to set new record lows across the region and the shrieking wind had steel in it and no mercy. Outdoors was fit for neither man nor beast.

All in all, a perfect day to stay in and play around with his Facebook account he had recently opened. While exploring this new novelty, he found that he could search for old friends. Any guesses as to his first search? Exactly. As he entered her name with shaking hands and pounding heart, his stomach decided to tie itself into tight knots of apprehension. SEND.

Twenty five years were wiped away with a single click of the mouse. The memories of the perfect fit of her hand in his, the softness of her hair against his cheek, and the warmth of her embrace seemed only five minutes, not a quarter century, old. The thieving lump in his throat stood ready to rob him of any breaths that his suddenly incapacitated lungs might try to inhale. He rubbed his eyes trying to rid them of their deception. Surely, it couldn’t be this easy. Yet, there she was.

His April. His Annie. His Maid Marian.

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