After 30 Years, High School Sweethearts Meet Again

When I was growing up, I spent a great deal of time observing myself and my relationship with the world around me and everyone in it. For the most part, despite always being popular and surrounded with friends, I had no sense of confidence in myself. I kept believing I was an extension of whoever I was with at the moment.

Recently I ran into someone who knew me in High School. In fact, “D” and I were each others’ first love. We haven’t spoken to each other since 1977, when I last saw him. He suddenly showed up on Classmates.com, I emailed him and to my shock, he replied. In the weeks to come we reviewed our memories of our group of friends, our favorite times and how we loved each other but we never said it to each other. Rather, we hung out. Cuddled. Listened to music. We were shy. And oh, how we loved the band, “Kansas”.

For over 30 years I had been mourning the loss of this man. In my senior year, we were forced away from each other in the beginning of what was starting to become a relationship because I had to move away. Those were days when people were laid off and gasoline was hard to find. My father was hired somewhere far away and I moved. “D” went on to college and our lives took very different paths.

When he contacted me, it turned out he was 10 minutes from my house. We spent a few weeks emailing and talking on the phone. It was easy to talk to him. We were shy in our teens but now, as adults, all the things left unsaid were gently pried from ourselves. I never knew if he really loved me. He did.

Would I still, after over 30 years? And with his injury? It wasn’t easy for him to talk about it. He was home because he was poisoned by coral while scuba diving. He “died” 3 times, was in a coma and doctors were forced to take one of his legs. Would I be uncomfortable going out to lunch with an amputee, he wondered?

I remembered another friend of mine, John, who when we were in the 7th grade lost one of his legs in a car accident. He was able to be fitted with a prostheisis and attended school until he dropped out in 10th grade. Being an amputee changed him. But we were close friends and his missing leg never bothered me. I think my experiences with John helped me prepare for facing “D”, who will never get a new leg, because there is nothing much of his stump for them to work with.

I doubt I’ll ever forget the first moment I saw “D” in his wheelchair. He looked quite good for a 50 year old version of the 18 year old I had last kissed and said goodbye to so many years ago. He used crutches when we went out to lunch, and I felt for him as patrons glanced up and took double takes at the man with one leg.

He has flown back to where he lives to continue his life and heal. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again. It was a helluva thing to have the chance to reunite with an old love. I could see what drew me to him in High School. His humor. His 139 IQ. His good looks.

For so many years I kept believing I was an extension of whoever I was with at the moment. I realized after he left this time that we were bound all these years by our memories and who I am now is made up of who I was when I knew him in High School. He said to me something I was surprised to hear.

“I knew back then you were special.”

I had waited over 30 years to hear that.

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