Wednesday, December 06, 2006


December is when I moved in with my boyfriend. We had a tumultuous relationship and broke up several times. I was young and still growing up. The live-in situation only lasted five months. But he was around and the temptation to keep trying was always there. I didn't know it at the time, but I got pregnant the month before we decided to try living together again.

December a year later I met the couple who would raise our son. The pregnancy made me realize that I really did need to do something about not being with someone who wasn't good for me. He was fine with going his own way and even moved out of state. But then he started calling relentlessly. He drove several hours on a couple of occasions and just showed up on my doorstep or at my office. This really unsettled me. I felt stalked.

That same December while visiting my parents I met a friend's brother who was also visiting his parents for Christmas. Turned out he and I lived in the same state. It didn't matter to him that I was pregnant. Early in the Spring we began dating. Things got serious fast. We moved in together. Stalker figured out I had moved but we put the phone in New Guy's name. So the letters started coming. And coming. And coming. So I married New Guy to get a New Name. We moved to another state and had my mail forwarded to "general delivery" in the new city to make sure I didn't miss something important. Living there with a new name would ensure that he couldn't find me, and we knew the place would be temporary anyway. I didn't have my mail forwarded when we did move the final time.

December two years ago he found me. I knew he had gotten married a few years ago. And I knew where he was because every once in a while I would check to see if he was still where he was when I last knew his whereabouts because if and when our son ever wants to know where he is, I feel I owe that to him. But when I received his email I didn't want to respond. I waited a couple of days and just wrote a couple of words. That's been pretty much the extent of our writing although I quickly brought up our son because that's what I most wanted to talk about with him. I didn't care about whether he liked where he lived or any other stupid pleasantries. There has been enough in the brief and intermittent emails to show me that his basic personality hasn't changed over the years. While his involvement ended at conception and he was never a part of the pregnancy, birth and adoption, the fact remains that we created a child together and we both feel grief, although his came more after the birth of a subsequent child several years later. He is sharing my feelings when I write about the black hole inside that is my loss, the dilemma over buying gifts for a teenage boy I love so much but barely know. By corresponding with me about our son, he is not like the handful of people in my life who know but when I've felt the need to say something about my son are just being polite listeners or have to remind themselves that oh, yeah, she had that kid that she gave up. While I still crave more of a connection with my son, somehow corresponding with my old flame has assuaged some of that longing. I know it's misplaced hope, but it's been somewhat healing to reach out and have a connection with the one other person who feels his loss. And I know part of me thought that reconnecting on any level with him and dealing with those emotions and thoughts was some kind of stepping stone on the way to a reunion with my son.

Last December he wanted to come to my area and meet me again. It was bad timing. I haven't told him about my daughter and she was too young and too colicky to leave with someone. I would have been too distracted. And I wasn't sure I was up for meeting anyway.

This December he wants to meet again. He is in the area. Today. A day earlier than expected. I was having conflicted feelings yesterday about whether I wanted to meet with him. I realize the world isn't going to end, life won't really change, etc. But still ... part of me wants to remember the young man I thought I was in love with, not the middle aged man he now is. How stupid is that?


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