Non Est Ei Similis (There Is No One Like Him)

I was 20 when I first met him. He was introduced to us by our friend who was his girlfriend then.

He had a quiet, intelligent air around him. And he was such a gentleman. That’s one of the first things I noticed about him. He would stand when we would leave the room or the table. He would open doors for us, motion for us to enter a room ahead of him. It’s refreshing, and personally, makes quite a positive impression.

He struck me as kind man. And respectful. He was older but he never talked down on us. And the conversations! Never boring. No matter how trivial the topic was, the exchange was always stimulating.

He didn’t know but when I met him, and got to spend time with him, I felt sad. Each encounter was both a joy and a little heartbreak. Heartbreak because it’s a constant reminder of what is not mine. Joy because, well, because.

Graduation came. Then job hunting. Then they broke up. We lost touch, him and us. He didn’t initiate re-establishing contact. Neither did I. It did not feel quite seemly to take up a friendship with a friend’s ex. And besides, I was young. There was life to explore, goals to conquer.

Years later, a falling out of sorts happened between my friend (his ex) and I. It was around this time that he and I saw each other by chance. Imagine seeing someone you held dear after having wondered all those years how has life been to him. Pleasure courses through you. Your heart feels like it would burst. It was all I could do to keep from hugging him.

And then the bombshell. He was leaving the country. Work elsewhere in the world. He got my contact information and those of our friends. Memory blurs after this. It was years of an un-patterned string of comings and goings, boyfriends and girlfriends, meetings, lunches and dinners, marriage and kids (for one), new jobs and engagements (for him). Until four years ago.

It started normally enough. The usual “I’m back!” message came. The usual calls and arrangements for meetings happened. Among those is for drinks at Ipanema in Eastwood. But only he and I managed to show up. And we talked and drank and talked and drank some more. Ended up staying out till after midnight.

One of the topics was Ice Age. I had watched it just days before the meeting and it gave me a bellyache from laughing. We agreed to watch it together.

The movie was a success. We were laughing and doing the poking thing since we got out of the theatre. We met a lot during this trip home. For drinks, mostly. The Ipanema night became a special thing between us. I can’t remember how many times we’ve gone there. But in one of those nights, something happened to me. I realized he will always be a part of my life. That we’d be friends for life.

He doesn’t know but during one of those nights, I got tipsy to the point I was getting flirty with him. I had wanted him to hug me and kiss me. But I stopped myself. I was sober enough not to let on. We’re friends. That’s that. Why ruin things?

When he left to return to work, my heart felt like it was breaking. I spoke to him on the phone on his way to the airport. I was crying. I didn’t know why but this departure felt different. It was a lot harder than before. Maybe because we have become much closer. Those Ipanema nights saw us talking about our lives at a deeper level. There was just us. We could speak freely. Special friends.

Then life happened. Boyfriends, girlfriends, kids, new jobs. Back to the old routine. I didn’t go back to Ipanema. Going there alone didn’t feel right. Bringing anyone else there felt like betrayal. It was our place. Our special place.

Years passed. It’s June 2005. I got one of his out-of-the-blue-no-reason-at-all text messages. An exchange ensued. I’ve always enjoyed sparring with him. The tone of the exchange underwent a slight change. That’s when he asked, “Are we flirting?” Until that point, I didn’t really put a label to what we were doing. It was when he asked that I realized that yes, we indeed were. And the knowledge hit me in the face. I didn’t lose my attraction for this man all these years. It just got buried in layers of life and friendship.

I pursued that exchange. I didn’t want to leave it at that. But he’s thousands of miles away. In the end, there was nothing to do but wait till he comes home in December. It was then that I started to think about him more often, this man who has become some sort of a constant in my life. I didn’t tell our friends. Just like all in college. When he was our friend. They hadn’t known anything. I never told a soul.

So much has happened since he asked that question. We’ve been together since he came back that December. This man still amazes me. He doesn’t know it but I would watch him. I would watch him with our friends, with his friends, his family. I would watch him when we're together, just having quiet time together. I would tell myself, I can’t think of a nicer human being. He’s gentle and witty, very patient, possessing admirable depth. He’s capable of so much love and emotion.And the funny part, when I finally told our friends about what was happening between us, it turned out they had some inkling about how he felt for me. Since that time we saw each other by accident 11 years ago, he had feelings for me! Wow! Didn’t I tell you he is a very patient man? And the depth of his understanding and self-control! He met almost all my boyfriends!

All these years, the man I had wished to be mine, had been carrying this torch for me in his heart. But I had stopped wishing. ‘Cause he’s mine. Like I had dreamt all those years ago.

Now, I have to face the reality that goes with that dream. But that’s another story.

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I wrote that a couple of years ago. But a lot has happened since then. I learned that reality can never hold a candle to fantasy. And for that particular fantasy, the realization was more heart-breaking for me. I cannnot say that there was really anyone to blame. He was being himself and I was being myself. Sadly, it was only in hindsight, more than a year after we broke up, that I realized that I bore a deep, deep anger at him for what happened, that I retaliated and hurt him badly.

Now we are creeping at being friends again. And I still love him. And I know I always will. Is it the same kind of love? I don't know. And I don't want to find out. Because we will never be together like that anymore. I had one boyfriend after him. But I'm by myself now.

And he was single for a while. But now, in his own way, he is telling me he has found someone who can make him happy. And I'm glad for him. Really. And I do want to know what will be the outcome of this one. But it hurt when I first learned about it. And it still hurts now. And maybe, it will hurt a long time. Maybe it will never not hurt at all. But I'm really happy that he has found what he calls his Epiphany.

As for me, I know I will continue plodding along my life. Cheering him on, and waiting for my own.

I'm sorry you were beyond my understanding, Erwin Rommel. Live on, live free.