Reverie

I miss S.C. so much. S.C. was a girl whom I was both close friends with and intensely infatuated with in college, if one can imagine such a thing. I miss her in so many ways. I miss her body, I miss her mind, I miss her thoughts, I miss her emotions, I miss her hugs, I miss her presence, and I miss knowing that she was always there for me.

I believe those were my formative years, just when I was discovering my identity. Because of my relationship with her at that exact moment in time, I feel as if her identity was intermingled with mine. That's why when our relationship finally failed, I felt more than torn apart, more than heartbroken. I felt like I lost a part of myself -- the part that was most alive.

Even now, almost eleven years after our relationship took place (I'm calling it a relationship here in the loosest sense, because in actuality we were romantically involved for only a few seconds :) ), during idle moments my thoughts invariably return to her. I see only two explanations for this: 1) as I mentioned earlier, parts of my identity are intertwined with hers, or 2) I'm just seriously fucked up. Quite possibly both are true. Eleven years? That's a verrrry long time. I haven't had any romantic relationships since then, because there is simply no other person like her. Not only did she look like a model (she looks very similar to and is just as beautiful as Liv Tyler), but she was an astute intellectual, and she was very interested in math, computer languages, computer programming, and the internet. And everyone knows of the age old stigma against women with technical interests (luckily this is slowly becoming obsolete). One couldn't ask for a more perfect match for a computer geek like me. (Well, personally I prefer blondes as gentlemen do, but you can't win 'em all.)

We used to talk on the phone together for hours, which I imagine takes place in most relationships (I can only say facts about myself with any authenticity :) ). One would naturally expect that a huge void would open up, simply because since I can no longer talk to her on the phone for several hours, that time that used to be occupied is now empty and I must come up with something else to do. But no activities (except, of course, sex, drugs, and rock & roll, which I avoided indulging in at the time) gave me as much pleasure and a sense of fullness and completeness as talking to and being with her did.