Paths that never stop crossing…

It has to mean something, right?

If any of you are children of the 80’s like I am, you may remember this Psychadelic Furs song “The Ghost In You”. It was played on vinyl at the first dance I went to in 7th grade. We were all at that awkward age where everyone just sort of stood around staring at each other. 

The boy who came to all of my volleyball games and sat and watched me play, but never spoke to me; the same boy that I unknowingly would later love, was the one who played this particular song on the record player we had in our junior high school auditorium. I feel like our eyes locked when that song came on and my heart just melted. Maybe it was my pre-pubescence girl-hood. He may not remember any of this.. hahaha! But I will NEVER forget the song, nor stopping to take a moment of silence whenever I hear it, for him. For that moment I’m flooded with warm thoughts of my first love.

I don’t really remember how it came to be that we began the “courting” dance and I don’t know that he would either… he later told me he secretly had a crush on me for a long time before I even knew who he was. His name was Michael L and he was a year older than me. He was beautiful in every way. The most beautiful yellow-green eyes you could ever imagine with a sincerity and kindness and even a sense of love when you looked into them. He always smelled like an intoxicating combination  of Mr Zogs sex wax and clean laundry. His sense of style was perfect and he was a skateboarder, which I loved even more.

He lived a few blocks from me, and would usually come over every day after school to bring me a Pay Day candy bar and a Diet 7-up. We wrote letters back and forth declaring our undying love for each other. We knew this was love and we couldn’t be apart. If there had to be a Soundtrack of our life/love, it was Black Celebration by Depeche Mode. Had we been adults, we would have been a “Power Couple” for sure.  Both good looking, both smart and both from good families. 

We were so young. We literally would spend hours just kissing and making out after school and we were perfectly fine with it. This was IT for both of us. He was constantly at my house, and I would even sneak him into my Grandmas house when I would spend the night there and we would spend hours upon hours making out. Him doing the grind thing through his pants l on top of me while our lips explored each other’s mouths and necks and our tongues outlines each other’s lips and tongues. He never pressured me for sex. He loved me. We were like peas and carrots. 

At the end of the school year, we spent the summer together. Our families went to Mexico on separate weeks, so there was a period of almost a month every summer that I wouldn’t see him. It was hard and we absolutely missed each other. He was my best friend. And I truly believe I was his. We laughed, we acted goofy, we passed love letters, we spent every second we could together. I was sure we were going to grow up and get married. School sweethearts do that, right?

Once the new school year started, I went into 8th grade at the same school we had both attended, and he started his first year in high school at an all boys catholic school. Things were great in the beginning and we would still see each other as much as possible. That is, until suddenly, he was becoming more and more distant. 

By this point, we had spent a year and a half almost making out on whoevers bed and then I would send him home with blue balls. I had no idea… hahaha! Sex was definitely on the table now because he was in high school. He finally told me that we couldn’t be together anymore because it just wasn’t right for a high school guy to be with an 8th grader. I’m pretty sure I was DESTROYED. 

We still hung out a lot and starting talking about whether we should have sex. I had never done it before and I didn’t know if he had or not… he really wanted it at this point, and I felt like it was the only way I could keep him in my life. I couldn’t live without him. So we had sex. In my parents bed. After school one day. 

My memory is of Michael being gentle and continually asking me if I was ok. It was extremely painful and I don’t even know if I was able to pretend I was enjoying it, which I wasn’t. I don’t even remember if it lasted a long time. But I remember feeling afterwards as though this was our bond and that we would now be closer than ever. We sat on my wooden staircase, I asked him if it was his first time and he didn’t answer me. He instead kissed me and left. 

The rest of the school year brought nothing but heartache for me. I loved him so much and I didn’t know life without “us”, but I was more of a toy for him now that he could come around and have sex with whenever he wanted to. And I was weak to him because he was my entire world. He seemed to just not care about me anymore. It was literally gut wrenching. But I tolerated it for most of the year. 

Then we just sort of lost touch. I went into high school and was about to have some pretty life changing experiences. New people. New surroundings. New temptations…

I left school and ran away from home and had a daughter at 17. Moved in with my grandmother. Michael had just come home from college somewhere in San Diego. He was 18 maybe 19 by this point. We hung out again and seemingly picked up right where we left off, but he was still all about the sex. I think he cared about me, but was just in a different chapter of his life than I was. It didn’t last very long and then he disappeared again.

We ran into each other years later when I was a cocktail waitress at a Benigans. I had to have been about 23 or 24. I think that’s where we met. I’m not sure if he was there because I invited him or if we just ran into each other there. Regardless, we were like peas and carrots again. But there was something very different about him this time… He lived in a loft in Hollywood where I went one night to visit. We watched the movie Spawn and before long were all over each other with no clothes on. This time, it was like he had gone and studied sexual pleasure. He was an AMAZING lover. Not the teenage boy I remembered. It was extremely hot and steamy between us. Just like always. 

I was quite unsure of what his intentions were this time, but the game changer was this… I had a 4 or 5 year old daughter and maybe even my son by then. My dates may be a little off. No guy his age wanted to be tied down to a girl with kids. I don’t remember why this time either, but we just sort of fizzled out. 

Much later (maybe 2004-2006 or sometime in there), I was thinking about him and decided I was going to call. I had no idea how to get ahold of him by this point because it had been so long. So I did what anyone would do. I called 411. They gave me a number, which I wrote down and immediately called. He answered. Butterflies…. but something felt different right away and I said “you’re married, aren’t you?”. He told me that yes, he was in fact engaged. My heart sank. Strangely, he told me the phone number I had reached him on was no longer his number and it had in fact been disconnected for over a year. CRAZY! I feel like this was meant to happen. I was bartending at a club in Hollywood and we were texting on a day I was working. He was in the area to get some parts or something, so he agreed to stop by the bar and say hi. 

He looked just as delicious as he ever did… there was so much energy and tension I felt like it was hard for us to keep our hands off of each other. I was working, which helped. He still smelled like Sex Wax to me. And he still looked extremely fuckable too. But nothing happened… 

We met a few other times. Mostly at skate parks with my son, where Michael cleaned out all of his video gaming consoles and brought them for my son. I don’t remember exactly at what point things got out of control… we were talking and hanging out regularly. I take that back. I DO remember. He was going motorcycle riding for the weekend up in Victorville and invited me to go along. We had been good up until this point, sneaking around, but not being intimate. 

I think everything changed that night. We drank a lot of tequila and ended up having amazing hot and steamy sex. He was always such an amazing lover. Giving, gentle with just the right amount of rough and my pleasure was his priority. After that, it just sort of kept going…

I met him at a house in like Culver City he was working on and we had with me being sex bent over the seat under a bay window. Another time we met at some place to grab coffee and ended up having crazy sex in his truck. We were like rabbits. We could NOT get enough of each other. The sad fact remained, he was with someone else and lived with her, and was going to be flying to Maui very soon to marry her. Imagine how that hurt… 

I never wanted to be a home wrecker. Not by any means. But this was Michael. My Michael. I felt as though he would always be tied to me no matter what the situation was. He was mine and I was his. His relationship was beyond unhappy before I even came into the picture. His family watched him go from happy to not so much during their relationship. 

I saw him before he left to Maui to marry this girl. His whole family went, as well as hers. He didn’t even want to go. But felt like it was too late to call it off. 

You may be judging me right now and that’s totally fine. He who knows no sin…

He called or texted me most days while he was in Maui and even brought me back a beautiful bracelet from there when he came back. 

We continued to see each other as though nothing had happened. He even came to my house one day to mow my lawn and change my kitchen faucet and do some other stuff. After we had sex, of course. 

It was that day, that we got a phone call from his BF saying that he better come home because his wife knew about me. I don’t know if I saw him again after that. His family was in SHOCK when they heard my name in things. He was advised to stay away from me until after the divorce and I think once again, it just fell off. 

Our last time together would be in possibly 2008 or 2009 when he was divorced and single and so was I. I spent a few nights with him. It didn’t last that long this time either. And that was likely the last time I saw him. 

He is now married (again) and a real estate agent. Every year on his birthday September 16th, I send him a text. For that 30-60 minutes that we text back and forth and I am SO filled with love and so overwhelmed that I cry most of the time. 

We will always be connected. We will always love each other. We will never stop thinking about each other. But forces have been working against us for a lifetime it would seem. Though I would LOVE to be his girl for real for the rest of our lives, the most important thing to me is that he is happy. That’s all I want for him. 

I haven’t been able to keep him off of my mind since his birthday and I’ve felt as though there is some sort of turmoil happening in his life. I reached out to ask him if he was ok and told hi how I was feeling and what I feared about what he may be going through. He confirmed my thoughts. How crazy that I am still so in tune to his feelings and emotions at times. 

I don’t feel like he has ever had a truly happy situation. My thought is that he has always been under enormous pressure to be the man his family wanted him to be. He’s a simple guy who loves life and would also love to live out his days living in Costa Rica and traveling the world surfing. 

His words to me… “Maybe in the next life, Autumn…” And he told me he will always love me and I truly believe that he will.

I love him so much and do feel as though I have suffered a loss with him not being in my life. Maybe like the loss of my twin flame or my cosmic love. They say you can have many soul mates throughout your lifetime and that you will always reincarnate together playing different roles in each other’s lives to help teach each other karmic lessons. 

Michael is not my soul mate. It goes so much deeper than that for us and I will never stop believing that. 

Author: Autumn Delaney

A screwed up girl in an even more screwed up world...

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