22 years later

First off … Facebook is the greatest thing ever invented. That guy is a genius. I had been searching for a way to find my long lost friends forever. I felt I needed to but I couldn't figure out how.
Facebook was the tool.
It was so easy. Type in the name … up pop the pictures and before you know it, you’re staring at pictures of your long lost friends from summer camp. For me this was a sort of surreal excursion into my past. I was giddy with excitement after receiving an email reply that said, “Are you kidding? Of course I remember you!” and another “HOLY CRAP!” These people were such an important part of my life … when I was 17. The reasons behind our growing apart and losing touch are probably many … work, college, life, the real world. But I tend to think the most significant of all reasons was the scary boy I dated.
I don’t wish to go into that right now. It’s a very involved and painful story. I will most likely blog about it some day. Just know that he was controlling and manipulative and most of all terrifying. I’m going back to the good place now … close eyes … deep breaths … ok …

So the response that made me giddy was from the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp (as said so eloquently by EGE). Back in the day that boy was my boyfriend. My camp boyfriend. If you’ve ever had experience with a camp boyfriend you know that it can be very intense. You spend a lot of time together. The environment is structured yet you have freedoms you wouldn’t have in a “home” setting. And back then the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp was truly the sweetest nicest boy in the world.
Fast forward to present time … after a 40 minute phone conversation … he still is. It sounds as if he has a great life, an awesome son, a super girlfriend, a great condo and a good job. He sounds exactly the same. You can hear the smile in his voice. And he sounds happy.
But this rant is not about that. It’s about this wave of emotion that has overtaken me since making contact. Please allow me to explain …

I stayed in touch with the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp for some time after camp ended. I would drive out to see him on weekends and we remained close. But as long distance relationships usually do … it ended. Not with dramatic conclusion … it just ended ... although my feelings never changed. I graduated from high school and got a job. No more summer camp for me. Ouch. But the summer of 1987 was upon me and I missed my friends from camp. My three besties were still there … the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp, Squidd and EGE. So I contacted someone in the camp and planned to drive out after work and surprise them. I arrived dressed in my nice work clothes, met the contact person (I have zero recollection of who that may be) and trekked through the woods to the campfire. I couldn’t wait to see them all but especially the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp.
It was late. The kids had probably gone off to their cabins and bed.
I could hear the laughing and singing. I was nervous.
The fire glowed through the trees. I was excited.
I could hear the crackle as the flame seared the seasoned wood.
Then just as I emerged from the passageway through the forest … I saw them. I saw the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp sitting with his arms around the girl in front of him.
A girl I recognized. A girl I knew.
I saw him sitting with his arms around her the way he had sat with me. And I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach where it broke into a billion tiny pieces.
I wanted to turn and run. I wanted to leave immediately but I had just arrived. I felt awkward. I felt out of place. I felt like an outsider. I felt like I no longer belonged to this exclusive club like somehow I betrayed the group by not coming back to camp that summer. And the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp never even got up to hug me or give me any kind of a special hello. My heart was broken … shattered.

And I had forgotten that feeling until now.

It sounds crazy. I know. He was no longer my camp boyfriend. I wasn't even at camp. I had no expectations of a reunion. It's been 22 years. That's a looooooong time. But there really is something to the saying, "people may not remember exactly what you said or what you did but they will always remember how you made them feel." Part of me thinks I need to tell him. The other thinks that's foolish. Where is this coming from? Have I really been carrying this around in my head for 22 years? Whew! I need therapy! Perhaps its closure I seek? Maybe I just want him to know that he … excuse me … they broke my heart that day? I know it was not intentional. I know there was no malice in these actions. And I know that the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp would have never ever hurt me that way intentionally. He is ... I mean ... um ... was after all the cutest, nicest boy in the entire camp.

Yet still 22 years later …