And although it's probably way outside probability, I hope you're reading my blog. If you are, then maybe you'd be surprised to see this entry, and maybe not so much. Or maybe you just enjoy Googling your own nickname from college and seeing what comes up, in which case, voila.
I'm acting a bit silly, I guess. I keep seeing one of your old AIM screen names popping up on my Buddy List and then just as quickly going away. I don't know if it's really you, or if someone else just happened to pick out that same nickname once you'd deserted it. (For all I know, someone stole your cell phone and that dratted AIM box keeps popping up every time they use it...) So seeing the nick pop up made me think of you, and thinking of you made me think of the few good times that were, and the many more that might have been...had I been a better man.
(Just so we're clear, all: the name up above? It's not the lady in question's AIM nick. So, nyah.)
The few occasions when we did talk together are etched into my mind forever. I just wish I was ready to step forward, take you by the hand, ask you out on a honest-to-gosh date. We met in the SFO at college, do you remember? You and your friend Kristin sat near my friend Liz and I at the first meeting of the semester--a screening of "Being John Malkovich," which, admittedly, I didn't want to sit through because I'd already seen the movie. But, hey, I wanted to join the club, and, having been away from campus for a semester due to illness (following some life-changing events...bad breakup and subsequent diagnosis of a chronic illness), I needed to ground myself in college life, and that meant going out and making new friends. I guess you were appointed.
I think at the time I was still in "date no one" mode, and maybe I also had a feeling or two for Liz, whom I'd only just met weeks before. Who can say? But weeks passed, meetings were held at your and Kristin's dorm. And the next thing I knew, I wanted to get to know you better.
Do you remember the time I dropped by the diner where you worked in the middle of the night? Here's a secret: I wasn't coming from any party downtown. I just came from my dorm, a few blocks away, to see you. You, with your glistening blond hair, intriguing eyes, warm smile, kind heart. We talked--about our respective college careers, movies we liked, books we'd read--and I let myself go for the first time in far too long. And then I walked you home at--what was it, 4 a.m.? I think I was beaming the whole way home.
I didn't know you had someone else...Jason, was it? The next time I went to the diner, I met him. Next thing I knew, you were gone from the diner, and I only very rarely saw you again. Some meetings for SFO, a chat or two on the phone, and at that winter choir performance at the Music Building. I guess the window of opportunity had passed.
So consider this a love letter, a few years too late, from me to you. I don't know where you are, or what you're doing, or if you're already married with kids. But I hope you've thought of me, and I hope we meet again someday. Most of all, I hope you're happy with where life has taken you.
I miss you, Marzzy.