2002-11-24 - 4:13 p.m. last rites for a first love This week, I left my first love at his hotel's front door. And it was a lot harder to do than I�d ever imagined. But first, let�s back up a bit. When I'd sent my casual "what's up" email, I hardly expected to hear he'd be here for business this week. I replied with an encouragement for him to give me a call later in the week to let me know if his schedule allowed time to grab some coffee or drinks. He surprised me by instead emailing me with where he was staying, his cell number, and a time and place for us to meet up for drinks. Although I agreed to meet him, I wasn't sure I'd actually go through with it. It had been ten years at least since I'd last seen him. I had made a conscious decision to remove myself from his life, and him from mine. But much has changed since then. I graduated college, moved, married, and divorced. But, in 2001, on a day full of emotion for many people, I realized he was my only unfinished business. I'd run away and never told him why. I picked up the phone and reinserted myself into his life. That's how we get to this point. At the appointed time, I walked through the purple-lit front doors of his hotel into the lobby, the 2 inch high, solid square heels of my black patent leather mary jane�s clicking as I crossed the gray slate floor on my way to the bar. The redwood paneled, low-lit bar was packed full of well-accessorized 20 and 30 somethings, with cocktails in hand as they perched on glamorous modern designer furnishings and checked each other out. I scanned the room for a familiar face. Not finding one, I strode out of the bar while stripping off my kitten-soft, shiny leather-trimmed black velvet hoodie jacket, tossed it and my patent leather handbag on the oversized tan leather and antler sofa in front of the nearest fireplace, and sat down to decide what to do. My first instinct was to walk out the door, hop on the bus, and go home. After all, we hadn�t seen each other for 10 years, so what would it matter if I flaked now? I pulled my cell phone out of handbag and called him. Although he couldn�t have recognized the phone number (since I�d never given it to him), the timing of the call immediately gave me away �Hello?� he answered wearily. �I�ll never find you here,� I bluntly stated. He sighed in exasperation. �That�s because I�m not there yet,� he replied. �No, it�s too crowded,� I insisted. �I�ll meet you in the lobby instead.� The vaulted ceilings of the lobby, despite the area rugs that were meant to soften the noise, caused the voices of the boisterous groups in the lobby and bar to be amplified to the point that eavesdropping was unavoidable. All the cocktail-fueled flirtation and business wheeling and dealing going on around me was distracting. This was hardly the environment for 10 years worth of catching up. It was becoming ever more clear this wasn�t going to work out. I passed a few minutes by checking my messages, then put away my phone. I stared at the flickering orange and yellow flames, enjoying the warmth and the scent of the burning walnut wood, and tried to imagine what the grown up version of the boy I once knew would look like. I was jolted from my daydreaming with a hand on my shoulder and a familiar voice saying my name. At over 6 feet tall as compared to my just over 5 and a half feet, his tight bear hug lifted me off my feet, and gave me an excuse to burrow my face in his neck, breathing in his clean, sandalwood and soap scent. �It was easy to find you,� he told me, as he looked into my eyes, not letting me out of his grasp. �You look exactly the same.� I rolled my eyes at his flattery, and squirmed to get away. Yet the cuff button on his chocolate brown suede jacket caught hold of one of my long, coppery brown curls and refused to let go. �Just like old times,� I said as I unwound my hair from the button, �I can�t get away from you.� (to be continued) Soundtrack to this entry courtesy of PJ Harvey's "dress" and the rest of my most recent mix. any comments? (0 so far) previous - next recently on almostgoldsf... in defense of an email box I came to do battle with SPAM - 2008-05-17 hello 2006 - 2005-12-31 Happy Thanksgiving - 2005-11-14 bon voyage - 2005-11-05 October already? - 2005-10-09