Back when I was in my early twenties around ten years ago, I was among the “kids” crazy about the Myspace fad. Someone, a guy, sent me a message and I added him as a friend. We started talking and we “spoke” on yahoo messenger when everyone was using it as well and then he gave me his cell number. I literally freaked out. I called a friend and spazzed out because I wasn’t the type of girl who got numbers from guys. I was the shy, quiet type who stayed home all the time. Anyway, I finally got the nerve to talk to him. And he didn’t bat an eyelash, even seemed to calm me down from my anxiety about talking to him. So we talked about everything and nothing. We talked for 2-3 hours that night. Afterwards, I felt like I was on Cloud 9. Once, he called me around 2 am while he was with his friends who were coming home from a bar. It was weird that he would call me while with his friends but I would take whatever crumb I could get, I suppose, and it made me feel special.
Every so often, I called him while he was on his lunch break and a couple times I made him late getting back to work because we talked so much. However much I enjoyed talking to him I wanted to meet him in person. However, he lived over an hour away. I didn’t have my license so I couldn’t go to him. I invited him around the holidays to a carol sing but he couldn’t make it because he was sick. But that was ok, I understood.
One day though, he disappeared. I stopped seeing him on messenger, he wasn’t replying to my texts and I was too nervous to call him. I waited about a week or so then finally texted him again and he told me he moved back home to the west coast. He worked at the beach giving surfing lessons as he told me before he used to go surfing, etc. where he lived.
I think I was able to talk to him once on messenger for maybe a few minutes before he had to leave again.
We sort of lost touch after that as he didn’t give me his new cell number but I would leave messages for him on YIM and one day while I was in class, I left my laptop on in my room.
Miss you cutie
That was what he called, his cutie. But that was all he wrote and I waited, and waited, and waited to hear from him again. And nothing ever came through. I gave up, stopped leaving messages online. And I took his only number out of my phone. I was upset, one day walking back to my apartment and started tearing up. There was no reason for it, it wasn’t like we were in a relationship or anything, we never even got to meet each other. It was just… stupid to be that emotional.
So time went on and I would think about him off and on and now ten years later, I’m still thinking about him. I even remember some of the stories he told me, word for word. But now, I feel this need to find him. I don’t know why, but I feel like the crazy ex-girlfriend trying to search for the boyfriend she never got closure from. I even went so far as to try to find him via facebook with just a first name and the place he told me he lived. And trust me, I know that’s crazy so I stopped because it’s not a healthy thing to do.
I just turned 32 yesterday, and I’m still pining for someone I will probably never see in this lifetime. I want to stop thinking about him but I don’t know how. I’m still that shy, quiet, reserved person and I want to be… more. I just wish I understood this hold he has over me.
I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what happens.