Seven years ago tonight, I met the one that got away. We met here in NY. I was 19 and naive. He was 25 and worldly. The snow started by the end of our first date. Thai food and Christmas carols. A final kiss at the bus station and off I went. Little did I know that would be the end of the beginning of the end.
We met online. From what site I can never remember. He worked in computers in a 9-5 job. Avid Kiss fan and total dork rocker. He played in a famous band that I had never heard of. I sat on my balcony for hours every night talking to him over the phone about Gilmore Girls, life and the new plant he bought for his living room.
It was love at first listen.
We agreed to meet in the city. It was easy for me to get in and he lived in Queens. We met at the Honeymooners' statue in front of Port Authority. He was even more good looking in person, if older.
We picked up where we left off the night before. The city was our playground. There was a rare outdoor exhibit. Rare for the winter months.
I couldn't tell you what we talked about except that he hated a certain Christmas song, which I of course sang over and over to annoy him. When we sat at dinner, where he introduced me to Thai food, he wore his skully cap indoors. To make a statement about being rock? Or because he was still cold? No idea. But I liked it.
It was the first time I felt free about dating and sexuality. We kissed on the street. No one seemed to care. After several hours, it was time to go home. After taking the elevator together, so we could have a few final moments together, I boarded the bus.....and didn't see him for one year.
I'm not sure if I ever sat and told anyone about this saga. What began as a communication between two souls became something out of a movie. I never knew what was real or not.
We agreed to meet again the next week. He loved Krispy Kreme and I happened to have one in my area. I boarded the bus with six donuts and received my last text message saying he couldn't wait to see me.
I waited at the statue for about three hours. I must have called 10 times or so. Numerous text messages. Nothing.
I admitted defeat and headed home. I sent a heartfelt email expressing concern and sadness
I was sick about it for weeks. What did I do wrong? What happened? Thanks to AOL, I could tell he had read my emails, but never responded.
Life went on. I moved to Kansas for some time a year later and while I never forgot about him, I learned to accept it. Some things in life can't be explained.
In January of 2005, I returned to NJ and lived with my friend Nikki. This was when Ben found me..
I checked my email and there it was. After a year, I had my answer.
Ben freaked. What he never told me was that his ex boyfriend and him were a perfect couple. Together for nearly seven years, until his family told his boyfriend he has to be straight if he wanted to be in the family. He chose his family.
The email seemed to be endless. Apologies left and right. Jokes about Krispy Kreme and begging for forgiveness. His heartache was too much for him to handle and he didn't know what to do, so he shut down.
What I did next was probably the stupidest; I went to see him.
On a Saturday, I drove to Queens from Parsippany and met him at his apartment. I got terribly lost and was nervous the entire time. When I arrived, there he was.
His apartment was exactly as I pictured it. And yes, that plant still stood in the corner of the living room.
We had another night. We were open and honest with each other. We watched movies and talked and laughed. I slept over with him, and he had this weird thing about sleeping in the same bed as someone. I didn't get it then, but I do now. So, he took the couch and insisted I took the bed.
In the morning, we had breakfast and walked along the streets. I was certain this was it. We just needed time and now it would work. I got in my car and headed home. Confident.
In the past five years, Ben has been hospitalized several times for extreme depression and anxiety. He thinks that the breakup was merely a way for his internal problems to develop in plain sight. I've never seen him again in person. We email and speak on the phone often. He's not working anymore, has no friends, doesn't speak to his family and lives entirely off of royalties from his past music career.
What do you do when the one that got away...didn't just get away? He went to a whole other planet. Something inside me still yearns for a future with him. Problems and all. In fact, everything inside me. Every guy I meet ends up not being Ben.
I now live in NYC and have tried to get in touch with him, but he is again not taking my calls.
I've turned into that idiot. I'm 19 again standing in front of Port Authority with a box of donuts, asking why?
Seven years later and I am still chasing after someone who does not wish to be chased.
