The ones who get away

My singleton friend, Marc, telephoned me last night to tell me another boyfriend has just gotten away.

“You’re in a monogamous loving relationship. You’ve just got married. You’ve no idea what it’s like being single,” Marc sighed. “I’ve blown it with Secondo. I prayed for the moment when he told me he adored me, and then when he did, I acted like a complete klutz sending mixed messages. Now he’s gone home to Italy and hasn’t called or emailed me.”

Well I thought, we can all be a klutz.

Let me rewind you to the Summer of 1996. I met a guy called Uri; a student from Israel visiting London for a whole month. He had a Roman nose and a torso like a Greek marble statue. His hair was black and glossy and tapered at the nape in a little wiry curl. His legs were as hairy as an orangutan’s and when I closed my eyes alone in bed at night I’d fantasise about stroking them. I’d imagine emigrating to Haifa with Uri and being on the beach, and swimming in the warm Mediterranean Sea with him, and being fed seafood from the end of his fork.

He’d tell me he’d set his alarm clock just to watch a sunrise over the London roofs or to hear the sparrows chirp from the window ledge of his hostel. He was sexy and young and sweet. One evening that Summer we strolled to Regent’s Park and we sat under a big oak. We joked around. We fooled about. Then, he reached out to me unexpectedly, yet, as I always hoped he would. He put his hand right on top of mine and held it there for a moment. And he touched me gently on the lip.

“I adore you,” he said.

It seemed like the world ceased turning on it’s axis, clocks stopped ticking, and for the first time in my life another guy had just said he adored me. Here’s the klutz part. I blew it because in that moment I got scared and sent mixed messages.

So the world started turning again and my watch went tick tock. We walked awkwardly to a fried chicken shack on a street corner and that’s when Uri explained he was flying home the following weekend but he’d send his address and we’d always keep in touch.

Sometimes, when Guido switches on the TV night news, I’ll see a report about a shooting or a bus bomb or some other God awful thing in Israel. That’s when I’ll think about Uri. I’ll pray he’s safe, that he’s found as good and kind a man to love like Guido, and I’ll wonder if he ever thinks at all about the time he told me he adored me.

So I tell Marc on the telephone he’s absolutely right. I can’t possibly know how he feels because I’m in a loving monogamous relationship and I’ve just got married. Me a klutz?

But if Uri Baumgarner from Tel Aviv is still out there and ever happens to find this blog, there’s something I want you to know. I should’ve put my hand back on top of your hand and squeezed it tight. When you stroked my lip I should’ve smiled straight right back at you. And then, in 1996, I should’ve told you that I adored you.

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33 thoughts on “The ones who get away

  1. My….what a beautiful post. Almost makes me want to settle down…..but I still have some wild streaks in me to settle yet, after being settled for 12 years, I not quite ready to give up all my independence yet….and I still enjoy comparative shopping for the right chap.

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  2. Last evening I accidentally clicked on your bookmark while showing a friend another site- I hadn’t checked in since you signed off back in the spring. I doesn’t look as thought you were gone long,I’m happy to discover. All caught up now on the Bermondsey and Spanish Onion goings-on. CONGRATULATIONS!!!. I’m so happy for you and Guido. I have to say, I could have sat through several evenings reading about your wedding details.

    Anyway, I’m thrilled you and the crew are back.

    Cheers,
    Daryl

    Liked by 1 person

    • And by the way, this last post was very poignant. I think we all have instances of having someone in our lives that ‘got away’. Or even finding out you’re the one that got away. Damn awkwardness, its probably the #1 spoiler of things good. LIke your wishes for Uri, I hope sweet, kind and gentle little Joe F found someone that truly deserved him.

      d

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  3. I resurface into actually reading blogs from my tipsy turkey summer of travel and surgery to find this. As has been said in previous comments you are where you are because of the things you said or didn’t say back in 1996. However I know exactly what you are saying and I have more than one that I would share a similar thought with if…

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