Sighting of the giant squid of the deeps

At the week-end I went to a university re-union. Among those there was my First Love. I was a virgin when I fell in love with her in 1981, but she was interested in me just as a friend. Later she got sexually lonely, and slept with me. 10 days later she'd had enough of me being more than a friend, and during the 3 month holidays that followed she moved on. For the next two years I chased her in my mind and in part in reality, and only very rarely caught her wanting me. To be honest, I dont know if I ever loved the real person that was FL, but I was desperate for her acceptance. I was infatuated according to some people's account. But as the infatuee, I never got it. A year later I met my wife, and have slowly stopped seeing FL in every fairly tall gold-haired girl in the high-street.

Then, last Saturday, there she was. Older - considerably drawn in the face, but I can hardly remember that now, because as I think of her, all I can see is the original girl. I'd known for over three months in advnace that she might be there, but now she'd arrived I couldn't be bothered to go up to her. There was nothing I could get from her. How could she really help me, resuce me from my past? Anyway, she could as easily walk over to me, rather than chatting with some distant friends reunited. Time passed, and we carried on avoiding each other. Someone noticed, and suggested I was making a mistake. So as the evening reached its last act, I went to talk. The rest is a blur, and I cant quite remember what I said, which is convenient because I made a fool of myself. I was thinking that I should communicate something really important to her, something about how I would have been so happy if I could have spent my life with her, how miserable (mainly with my wife) I'd been for much of the past year or two. So I ended up saying something about how marriage can be very hard/unhappy. Hmmm. She was, as ever, very sensible and sure of herself. Qualities I admire, but not really the ones I love. What I really love is her promise of acceptance. So that's still infatuation, not love at all by some definitions, but it certainly is my first love, undented by time, exactly as I left it. Of course I never could kill it, I always knew it was there, just subdued to a level where I felt in control.

At 3am FL (the person, not the feelings) escaped to her room, and in the morning I couldn't face the possibility of her not being interested in carrying on our conversation roughly where we'd left off, so I vanished home. On Monday I realised I had got no contact details, and no chance of another reunion ever. I cursed. The university would probably not give out email addresses. At least I knew she was friends with X, who was married to some rich guy who I might be able to track down. But that was FL done and dusted. Just as I had thought: my salvation would not come from FL, I had to find it from within.

Then, yesterday I got an email from the university. FL had asked if she could have my email address. I am twittering inside as I think about that. Probably, she means what she says in her first email: she'd like to keep in contact. And no more. But as the hours have passed, I have been aware of movements in the deep. the giant squid of my first love is awake again. At one point it touched my heart. And encircled it with one of its tentacles, giving a gentle squeeze. That reminded me of the visceral pain that might come from this. And I know that the beast has the strength to reel me right up to its beak, and chop my head off.