The One Who Got Away

When I flip through a magazine or pass by a certain mall store with my ex’s face plastered all over it, Mark always teases me about it… He’d murmur at me teasingly “Look…the one who got away.” The thought has never failed to fluster me. Do I think he’s the one who got way? Maybe for some time before I did. He was not an ideal guy. But being with him became quite ideal at some point in my 18-year-old life. Yes, we were 18. And fun-loving and reckless. He was the six-foot, half-Swiss guy in my class whom I initially disliked. And for some bizarre twist, we ended up together. But only for a few months. I was different back then. I was secure. I had friends I loved to death. School was more than manageable. I was contented. I was happy. And then he came along and was the cherry on top of an already-delicious ice cream; the icing on top of an already-sweet cake; the bonus round of an already-won game. And although it was an easy-going relationship that we had, and I was always the one who was not really serious, who did not really grasp on the fact that he was sought-after and yet he was with me, the one who was always accused of valuing my friends more than I valued him, our inevitable break-up broke me. Although I thought differently back when I was in the middle of that storm I went through, I now know it was not so much as losing him that killed me…it was the idea that I failed at something… I failed someone I claimed to love. That was what broke me. It changed me in ways I could never really fully describe. It changed me both in good and bad ways. I lost my sense of security. But I learned to value love and the people I love. I lost my desire in constant nights of boozing and dancing, which was a college student’s translation of fun back then. But I became more serious, more driven, more focused. I lost him. But I found love in a whole new different form and intensity and purity. I found Mark. And the two and a half years we’ve been together has never made me feel surer about anything in my life.

And so now I endure his constant teasing when it comes to my Half Swiss ex. I pass it off as his way of fishing for assurance. And then I whisper to him back with a smile and say: “Let him be. Anyway, you’re the one who’ll never get away.” :)