Nostalgia: The One That Got Away

Sacha Black has a ‘Writespiration‘ this week themed around a nostalgia that hurts in less than 200 words. I’ll give you first the flash fiction, then the back story.

When you are thirteen, your cousin’s best friend is the knight from fairy tales: tall, dark, handsome, blue-eyed. How could he walk, talk, breathe amongst us mere mortals? And yet he looked at you, kissed you,  so you wrote to each other for two years. You lived for your brief meetings. No cross word ever passed between you.

You parted as good friends, moved on to other lives, other people, marriage, children, divorce, remarriage. You studied and worked in different countries, met again on LinkedIn. Grey hair, little paunch, wrinkles – and that’s just the flattering pictures. Older yet not much wiser, you knew he had been The One, but you were both too young to understand or to need each other all those years ago. No going back, no proof of discontent with your present life, but you wanted to let him know how you felt about him back then.

You let him in through a gap in your armour. You held out the shivering pulp of raw heart. You try to be fair, not see disgust or hasty retreat where none was intended. But the silence was thunderous.


He was my cousin’s neighbour and best friend. He was like something out of fairy-tales: tall, dark and handsome, with the most amazing blue eyes. I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as that could walk and talk and do all the normal (i.e. silly) things that my cousin and I were doing.

Whenever I passed through the town where my aunt and uncle lived, we would go out in a large group of friends for walks, go rowing on the lake, get lost in the forest, linger through cemeteries. The usual teenager stuff. We laughed, we talked, and I dared not hope that he would ever think of me as more than Bobby’s little cousin.

And then one day our fingers brushed against each other. A silence fell between the two of us, as our hands found each other. The others continued to walk and joke, but we felt set apart. Our eyes were drinking each other in.

We never lived in the same town, so for a couple of years after that we lived on letters and phone calls. There was one public phone at the post office in the village where he went to boarding school and he was only allowed to use it once a week. I would try to plan my weekends around that call, never quite knowing at what time it would come.

But life went on and others entered our lives. We parted as good friends. We both married young, divorced, formed new relationships, had children. We found each other again online, with careers taking us all over the world, with a few extra kilos and greying hair.

The moment has passed. Our courage and idealism have withered, even if a small seed beneath remains unchanged. There is no use asking: ‘What if…?’ We were too young then to know that we had already found the perfect partner all those years ago.

So we beat on, boats against the current….

This was one of the very first stories I wrote for Cowbird on the 14th of February, 2012 for the Valentine’s Day collection. The theme was ‘First Love’. I felt the story would be incomplete if the above-mentioned first love did not get a chance to read it. We had recently got in touch again after decades of not hearing much about each other (he had found me on Linked In). We had parted on good terms, we had moved on, had rich and fulfilling lives, so there was nothing desperate or stalkerish about my email to him with the link to the story.

I just wanted him to know how much he had meant to me at the time. Because I was too young and foolish back then to express it.

It’s been four years since I sent that email. I have not heard from him at all since. Not on Linked In or email or anything else.

I know emails can get stuck in spam folders or deleted. People can get busy or forgetful. The heartbreak is minor, negligible, easy to laugh at wryly, easy to explain away. It was, after all, so long ago. Spring has come and new life is budding forth. I am full of energy and plans, I do not look back.

But beyond all the excuses and shrugs… there is a younger, more tremulous heart within this hardened crust which does now have scars. And the memory of that first love is no longer quite so serene.


21 thoughts on “Nostalgia: The One That Got Away”

  1. Powerful stuff. Do we always have the one that got away in our lives? I do, I know – Judy Garland’s “The Man That Got Away” always speaks to me very loudly.

  2. Some of us cannot look back without vertigo, for the past is as unfathomable as the future, perhaps more so… 😉

  3. What a story, Marina Sofia! Thank you for sharing it. I think we all have that first love in our memories, and we are never the same afterwards, no matter how it ends.

    1. Yes, somewhat disappointing… but it’s best to set expectations regarding other people low, that way you are never disappointed, right? See what an old cynic I’ve become!

  4. Like Cathy above it also has me ‘thinking long’ It strikes me as a very brave thing to write about. Even the phrase ‘nostalgia that hurts’ got me up to make a cup of tea!

  5. Sometimes when you tell people, or try to tell people, how much they meant to you, all too often they don’t take it in the vein it was intended.

  6. This is so heartbreaking, absolutely perfect entry, full of the young love and weary nostalgia beautiful Marina ❤ Thank you for participating

  7. Thank you for sharing your story of first love, that age is so evocative! I vividly remember the boy I liked at that age, I was never brave enough to tell him though! It’s a shame when we open ourselves up and people retreat for whatever reason at the expression, it has happened to me numerous times, even though I’m quite shy really in matters of the heart, to love is to feel pain! I think sometimes it’s not even that the person didn’t share some feelings, it’s just that they don’t know how to express their own. I myself have retreated at grand declarations which I was unsure of, mostly when I was younger so it’s a tricky one…but I will say I remember the people who were brave enough to do that and do not think anything less of them, regardless of if I had romantic feelings, to have someone express themselves honestly is not something I forget, anyway. xo

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