I Remember Him
I remember being afraid at first. I was in awe because everything about him touched some part of me. I'd not felt that before, and I'll readily admit I was afraid. I wasn't the sort of girl in high school that fell in and out of love. I wasn't that sort of girl in college. I can count the number of men I've said 'I love you' to on one hand and still not use all five fingers. Love was a commitment I wasn't willing to make most of my life.
I remember telling him once that I was afraid of falling in love. He told me to go ahead and fall, that he'd catch me. He was true to his word.
Every single thing about this man made me happy. I loved his humor, his laugh could melt my heart and, I kid you not, merely thinking about him once made my knees go so weak that I had to lean against a wall to keep from falling.
I knew passion with this man. I realized I'd not known it before him, and I don't think I've known it since him...not that kind of raw, freedom to express anything and everything, mental, emotional and physical, sort of passion.
Because of life's circumstances, this man and I went our different ways, but there were never any hard feelings. We remained friends for a long time. So much history, so many emotions, so many memories. Still.
I wonder if I'll ever, again, have the sort of feelings I had for this man so long ago. I wonder if I've hardened my heart so much over this last year, if it's even possible for me to let someone get that close to me. Will I have that same fear of letting myself fall so completely...and if I over come that fear, will someone catch me again? Does that kind of passion happen more than once in a life time? Is it worth the risk to find out?
For many years I've kept his memory at a safe distance. Now, sometimes in those moments late at night, right before sleep comes, I remember him.