"Got Away" for Good?

After the Eagles of Death Metal concert, I kept thinking about the young man who proposed to his girlfriend in front of everyone, but more specifically, I reflected upon the comments he made regarding their relationship. He said he came to the realization of undertaking the proposal because he had spent far too much time away from her and it had been too unbearable for him to go through again. Obviously, I don't know the context of their "situation", but many possibilities arose in my head. (1) Perhaps they had been dating for a while now, and a long vacation time away from her rattled him so much that he realized what his priorities were; or (2) perhaps they had just recently met, but their time together had been so potent and enriching that he decided to throw caution to the wind and pop the question. However, a third possibility also kept bouncing in my head, and it's one that I've been thinking of constantly for several days: the "The One that Got Away" possibility.

We've heard and seen this expression used before - in sappy "romantic-comedies" and lovey-dovey TV shows. A good-looking guy removes a photo of a girl from his wallet, and his best friend leans over and says, half-mockingly, "Ahh...the One that Got Away." In most of these cases, the guy ends up tracking the girl down, confronting her directly and professing his love to her, and she reciprocates by affirming she's always felt the same way about him. They hug, they kiss, rain starts pouring, they giggle, the credits roll...but that's Hollywood for ya'. If you really think about it, what does this term really mean? What's the real, contextual significance behind "The One that Got Away"? Is it just something we keep overusing because it is familiar and part of the common lexicon, or does it have a specific message behind it? Do we simply use it to refer to a guy/girl with whom we were unable to "hook up" with? Or does it signify something deeper than that?

The reason I'm positing these questions now, after I witnessed the couple at the concert share a "moment," is because I've been struggling with this predicament for a while now, with a specific girl from my past - "Reese." For the past year-and-a-half or so, I've been thinking about Reese a lot. Not only because I haven't seen her at all - and I've barely talked to her - but more so because she is, to put it succinctly, the one girl who's truly shaken me to the core. I've gone out with a couple of other girls since her, but they simply haven't been comparable to Reese's warmth, humor, and unique personality. It's crazy to think that a handful of brief, fleeting moments can impact one's love life so dramatically, but that is how I've come to perceive and think back on my moments with this girl.

As it happens, at first I wasn't so keen on wooing her, even though I knew that she was interested in me. I would ask my friends for advice, and most of them would egg me on and tell me she was an amazing catch. I knew this to be true, but, given the fact that I was graduating college in a few months - and she still had one more year to go - I kept looking ahead into the future and felt reluctant to "act on it," both because I was unsure of my true feelings for her and also, more critical for me at that point in time, because I didn't want to deal with the consequences of what a long-distance relationship would inevitably bring. As I struggled and thought it through, I would still nevertheless spend nights hanging out with her. Reese made me laugh like no other girl could, and I always felt comfortable and at ease when she was nearby. She would come over to my place and we'd watch a movie she had never seen before, and in other instances I'd swing by her place and she'd introduce me to a filmmaker I wasn't so familiar with. I soon started to perceive an easygoing, affectionate vibe between the both of us - a strong bond between two quirky/funny people who share similar taste in films. However, whereas I would regard these "movie meets" as just that, I started to realize that she enjoyed them a great deal and loved spending time together. One time at her place, as soon as the movie ended, I said a quick "goodbye" and darted out unusually fast. There was no motive behind that - I think I was running late somewhere - but she saw it as a snub of some sort. Afterward, she confronted me while we were talking online. Why did you run off so quickly?, she asked me. I had no real answer to give her, but from her reaction, I realized that I needed to behave better and enjoy the time I spent with her.

Spring Break arrived, and I was terrified of having something so potentially great happen to me. However, one drunken night - as we texted each other while being miles and miles apart - we acknowledged the interest we had for one another. I was having a great vacation - immersed in sandy beaches, beautiful vistas and attractive girls in bikinis - and, yet, all I could think about was Reese. Even though we affirmed our mutual appreciation, I was still skeptical of what might come about - again, not because I didn't like her (I did, very much), but because, if I did agree to start seeing her, I wanted it to be as perfect as humanly possible. Once we were reunited back on campus, we kept up with our "movie meets" yet still maintained things at a platonic level. Then, one night, Reese and I watched a film at her place. As the movie went on, we became more at ease lying close to one another. At one point, she turned to look at me. She smiled and laughed. I leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed me back. I felt as if firecrackers had gone off inside of me. Never before had I experienced a kiss like this one. This feels good. This feels right!, I kept shouting over and over in my head at that moment. Everything made sense. It was an unabashedly romantic moment, but one made more uniquely poignant for the simplistic essence of it. It wasn't a bombastic display of love - the kind you see in musicals or romantic melodramas - but instead, a subdued and quaint moment: just me and her watching a film on her laptop, embracing each other and enjoying the silence, with the computer glare being the only thing illuminating us in the darkened room. I left her place grinning like an idiot and going through a flurry of powerful emotions. For the next couple of days, I thanked my friends profusely for having courted me through this. I felt like a better man because of them, and I felt like a better person because of my "moment" with Reese.

With most wonderful dreams, there's usually a downside or "reality check." Mine came when I started to dwell too much in the unrealistic notion that we'd be together in a seamless way, without any difficulties, and it started to dawn on me that this great bond that I had just discovered would be disrupted in a matter of months. I started to question my potential within the "connection" I had made with Reese, and before I knew it, I had convinced myself that I needed to be single (or alone) in order to evade the pain that was inevitably going to land on me. Reese herself was mulling over similar things, and during one online conversation, she told me that she thought it'd be best if we remained just friends. Instead of arguing against it and saying what I truly felt, that I had never met anyone like her and would not take "no" for an answer, I did a really stupid thing: I agreed with her.

I should've fought for her. I realize that now. Was she expecting me to take charge and denounce what she had just told me? Tough to tell. But, that's what pains me most of all when I think about it nowadays - that I took the news lying down and didn't tell her how much she meant to me.

I immediately perceived the shift in our interaction after we parted ways. She kept emphasizing that she didn't want things to change, but she started calling me less often to meet up and hang out. She stopped wanting to watch films together, and instead would only call me up when she needed someone to have lunch with. As my last semester came to an end, my friendship with Reese became almost nonexistent; tattered and consistently awkward. A whole new batch of emotions flooded me: why had it come to this? When had it 'gone off the rails'? I was furious. Furious because I let our bond dissipate very easily, but also furious (and heart-broken) that she had also not fought harder to maintain what we had built up. At one point, I decided to let go altogether, and in doing so I brushed away all of our moments. What I had hoped to evade since the beginning (the second-guessing and eventual heartbreak post-college) still nevertheless ended up finding me and hitting me hard. I constantly kept analyzing it in my head, like a bad team strategy after a failed game, but no new answers popped up, and so, in effect, I ended up putting the matter to sleep for good.

Until now.

As I was mulling over writing about this topic, I mentioned it to a friend of mine who lives in LA. When I told her the post would be about "the One that Got Away," she quickly replied, "Oh, yeah...I've got one of those." We've all been in this situation, in one way or another. To some, it merely signifies a "lost tryst" of some kind, whereas others fall in a latter category - the one I'm realizing I'm also a part of - a missed opportunity at love. Now, after all this self-reflection, I can honestly say that Reese is very much "the One that Got Away" for me. But - does it end here? Do I have to keep alluding to Reese in that way? More importantly - do I have a choice on the matter? Perhaps the Eagles of Death Metal kid was in my situation, and he had cut ties with the girl but couldn't deal with it and so sought her out...His story obviously has a happy ending, so, to that effect, could all of our "Ones that got away" situations be resolved? It seems like it's up to us - to be like the Death Metal kid and take the risk.

Apart from our own romantic preoccupations, one also has to consider the "grand scheme" of it all. Are my parents soul-mates, or did they end up marrying each other because their "Ones that got away" truly disappeared out of their lives? Food for thought.

I don't really know where Reese is nowadays. Probably back in her hometown, probably in love with someone. All I know is that, personally, I cannot take the risk again and confront her about this. All I can do (which is what I'm doing now, as we speak), is reflect on the one true girl who really made me feel alive. She may read this - she may not - but it's out there, and all of it is 100% genuine from the heart. I love her for liking me so much when I was too blind to realize it, and I'm grateful for having fond memories to look back on. Whatever happens, this is me coming to terms with it, and, at the very least, I can take solace in this often-used expression whenever my subconscious starts to reminisce about the past...