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> The One That Got Away, Sharing A Personal Experience
JLY
post Apr 21 15, 07:45
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Group: Centurion
Posts: 4,592
Joined: 31-October 03
From: New Jersey
Member No.: 39
Real Name: John
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Larry Carr



The One That Got Away

Did you ever have that one relationship where you knew it was just perfect from the start and nothing could go wrong, but for whatever reason it didn’t work out and it haunted you over time?

Take a trip with me back to the mid-seventies. I was adrift, had no one special that I was involved with and a friend of mine threw me a lifeline. I was given the opportunity to go on a blind date and I accepted the offer. My experiences with blind dates had been mixed but I was an open-minded person and wanted to take a chance. I double dated with my friends Bob and Carol and we all went together to my date’s house to pick her up.

We were on time and my date was punctual as well. Thankfully there was no uneasy feeling trying to carry on a conversation with a family member I hadn’t met before. As soon as Emma came to the door, my jaw dropped and I felt a rush of euphoria percolate my senses. She was absolutely gorgeous and she had the warmest of smiles, not forced or put on, just bright and cheery. I felt an instant connection but I didn’t want to seem too eager or aggressive. I had learned several times that first impressions can go awry and the person behind that enticing façade is not necessarily the one that will later become a true, caring companion. I learned many times not to judge a book by its cover, or a woman by a pretty façade. Some of the best relationships I ever had were with those women who initially didn’t enthrall me but over time I would find out those hidden qualities that were sensual and enduring.

Emma had long flowing, golden blonde hair which framed her large gold hoop earrings. She clearly stood out in our group of four. Bob, Carol and I were dressed neat and casual as if we were going to the movies. Emma had on a tight-fitting dress that had a colorful sheen to it. She had a striking resemblance to Rita Hayworth’s character in the film Salome. Her high heels went well with the dress but seemed like a dash of formality when paired alongside our relaxed loafers. Perhaps she wore the heels because she wanted to appear taller. Emma was five foot four without heels and I was six foot one without high heels as well.

Emma was a casual acquaintance of Carol’s and perhaps the two ladies talked about the evening but it seemed like there were mixed signals. One was geared up for dancing; the other was ready for the picture show.

We went to the Stanley Warner Theater on Rt. 4 in Paramus. At the time that was our area’s multiplex theater. It showed four movies! Today, the one that is closest to my home shows sixteen! Bob and I did the correct thing at the time and we gave up our desire to see an action flick and deferred to selecting a “chick flick.” Strangely I cannot remember the name of the movie. I pride myself on remembering every little detail of my past. I can tell you the most insignificant facts and happenings of my youth: my home phone number, high school locker number, song titles, TV shows, sports trivia, old girlfriend’s birthdays; but that was one time when it was a blur. I can remember the scent of Emma’s perfume, Charlie, but the movie we viewed remains a mystery. Was I watching the screen in front of me or was I just gazing all night long at this lovely beauty to my right?

The conversation in the car to and from the movies was punctured with laughter. Nothing was forced. It seemed like every topic or comment elicited an easy going response. We all went for a bite to eat and I drove Emma home. I remember we sat in the car and talked for quite a long time and we both concluded that a second date would be a sure thing.

We followed all of the traditional dating rituals and every phone call was a pleasurable part of our romantic journey. Emma was one of those gals that looked equally as lovely in a pair of old jeans as she did in a “Pretty Woman” red dress. At the time we dated she was employed as a model for Playtex in Paramus. That saying, “you can’t judge a book by its cover” accurately described Emma. She was nothing like the persona you saw. Emma’s magnetic appearance was just that, but nothing more. Under the surface, she was a casual, girl-next-door, kind of person. She was not the type to use her attractive charms for any advantage. It was almost as though she felt cursed by them.

Despite the good times, there was always an underlying dramatic element. I could never understand how the most attractive women would embrace such duress. You would think they could have their pick of any man but yet their choices always befuddled me. Always lurking as a divisive force were her bad memories and experiences with other guys. As close as we would get to each other, Emma would pull the other way. I never could figure out her tentative nature. She never seemed to put forth the effort. I would get frustrated and make some stupid comments and there would be arguments that precipitated a cooling off period.

When I was sick, Emma took care of me and when the stars were brightly aligned and the moon was full, she was a starlet all aglow. She enjoyed the finer things in life but she was probably more at ease when she was at her Uncle’s farm in Pennsylvania. Family was always important to her and Suzanne was very close to her sister, brother and mother.

Emma at the time made me feel special. We have all been there. There are people we meet and date who are above the rest. They have some intrinsic quality that captivates us. It could be an attractive, physical quality or it could be an emotional thread that pierces our heart. Oftentimes I used poor judgment when dating. Rarely did I find that comforting connection. I always seemed to misread their signals and didn’t clearly perceive the nuances of their body language. I would either be too giving and generous to the ones that cared the least and too ambivalent to the few that truly beguiled me with amative embraces.

I distinctly remember one of those magical moments when my romantic dreams came to fruition. It was a hot, humid and sticky Saturday night in July of 1975. The streets of New York were quiet and empty. It was Emma’s birthday and we celebrated it at one of the idyllic restaurants of that time, The Ravelled Sleeve on First Avenue. Emma was stunning in a summery dress. Her pretty, natural features were never masked by gobs of makeup. I tried to look cool and collected but no matter how hard I tried, the combination of the summer heat and Emma’s radiant smile left me in a perspired state. After dinner while we strolled along, I felt like my life was grand, just like those lyrics from My Fair Lady that resonated in my euphoric consciousness:

“I have often walked down this street before
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before
All at once I am several stories high…”

After having experienced the thrill of walking on air, I was thrown into a darkened abyss. At the time I never could rationalize those polar opposites. The slightest disagreement would result in expressions of cold resentment and a cooling-off period. I would seek advice from my closest friends. They were of no help. They offered no support and their perspectives were contradictory to what I wanted to hear from them. In particular, my friend’s wives were catty and injurious in their comments to me about Emma. She no longer wanted to be in the company of my friends because she accurately sensed that she was not perceived in a good light. I was torn. I chose to be with Suzanne rather than to be in a social setting with my closest friends.

I put all of my energy into this relationship but it never seemed to result in the fulfillment of any ecstatic fantasies. I always seemed to be one step ahead in my emotional thought process. We were never on the same page. I deluded myself into thinking I would be experiencing all of those pent-up idealistic dreams that I had harbored for so many months.

It was Emma’s decision to break apart for the final time. Rarely does one part on good terms, because if one were on good terms one would not part. I continued to hold on to the belief that you never lose by loving, you only lose by holding back. In retrospect you just never know true happiness until you have truly loved and you will never understand what pain really is until you have lost the one person that filled your heart with joyous enchantment.



·······IPB·······

Give thanks for your new friends of today, but never forget the warm hugs of your yesterdays.

Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!


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