Love, Heartbreak, and Life Is Short

Believe it or not, I was a very shy child.  Really.  When it was time to go to high school, I went to a coed Catholic school   I didn't do well.  After I survived one very unhappy year there, I begged my parents to let me attend the all girls Catholic school where a couple of my good girlfriends were.  I felt safe there with none of those annoying boys hanging around.  Yeah, I was spoiled.  I had no idea how expensive that place was.  But, I was happy there.

In my senior year, we were offered the opportunity to go on a religious retreat somewhere in New York.  Yay!  I don't know who thought it would be a great idea to have an all girls school and an all boys school attending the same weekend retreat, but it was there I met the boy who was to be my first real love and my first truly devastating heartbreak.   David (not his real name...I've changed the name to protect the innocent) was so handsome.  He had long blond hair (this was the 1970s, so long blond hair on a Catholic high school boy was more than acceptable). He and I made a pact to stay in touch. I was beyond lovestruck; probably more like lovesick.

Staying in touch back in the 1970s was a bit more challenging than it is today. We didn't have iPhones, computers, etc.  For me, it was particularly challenging to use the home phone because my  mother was a physician; her office was in our home and our telephone was dedicated to the medical practice.  My father, sister, and I had very, VERY limited telephone access.  With this limitation in place, David and I wrote long letters to each other.  (Today, I can't remember the last time I wrote a letter.)  Anyway, I was over the moon when David invited me to his senior prom.  My mother drove me to New York and we stayed at David's house. I was happier than I can express.  I got to meet David's family and his high school friends.  Sigh.

David I went off to different colleges, but we continued writing our letters.  One weekend, David, along with one of my girlfriends and her boyfriend came to visit me.  I think that may have been the first time David and I had time alone.  My visitors left on Sunday and that was the last time I saw David or heard from him.  To say I was heartbroken is putting it mildly.  

Of course, my life went on and I met the wonderful man who has been my husband for forty-two years.  Bill and I are complete opposites, but somehow we make it work.  We have two wonderful adult children.  I know how fortunate I am.

A couple of years ago, I decided to track down David on Facebook.  What a different world than the one years ago when we wrote all those letters.   I found him and of course I called and he actually answered!  He sounded exactly the same. After saying hello, I told him that he had broken my heart; I may have even cried a bit.  He said he knew that and he apologized.   I could tell that he meant it, and that meant the world to me.  

About a year ago, David called and left a message saying he wanted to catch up; it had been a while since we had spoken.  Feeling particularly bitchy that day, I decided I wasn't going to return that call, and I forgot all about it.  

A few months ago, I realized that I did want to speak with David.  After all, life is short, why be bitchy?  I looked at his Facebook only to find that he had passed away after a battle with cancer. 

Life really is short; I so regret not returning David's call.  He's gone now, but of course he lives on in my memories.  I no longer focus on the heartbreak; after all, that is ultimately responsible for my meeting and marrying the man with whom I am supposed to be. Maybe David and I will meet sometime in the afterlife...and we will be genuinely happy to see one another.