A Thirty Year Old Crush: A Story of Romance and Deception

This is my story. It is thirty years now since I graduated from high school in this part of the city, and left for a job offer across town, never to return until now. What had been what seemed like a going nowhere job at a hardware store became a career that has just led to an executive job back ‘home’ where I grew up. I need the familiar now, as my second wife and I divorced a year ago.

It is funny how certain memories are triggered when you return to the places you once saw nearly every day. After moving in close to where I grew up, I took a walk to my old high school. When I got there, what sprung to mind immediately was Sandra, and the ‘enchanted evening’ that we met at a high school dance. She was from another school, so we hadn’t met each other before. She was new and exotic when I first spotted her across the gymnasium. I crossed from the boys’ side of the gym and asked her to dance. We hit it off immediately. I hadn’t believed in ‘love at first sight’ before, maybe lust at first sneak peak, but this was, I thought at the time, the ‘real deal’. We were both wild dancers, had a similar slightly sick sense of humour when it came to imitating and mocking how other people danced. I walked her home, and we spent a long time at her front door. I was so glad that her parents did not seem to be awake. I believed that what I was feeling was more than just teenage hormones. It was something deeper, something stronger.

I was so focused on the now, that I forgot to ask her for her phone number. I did, however, make careful note of the address as we parted company. It was fifteen Clarence Street. She stood at the door waving at me as I walked away. 

 I had to see her again. What should I do? I decided to hang around her house that Saturday, waiting for her to come out. My patience could not survive the wait for long, so I went straight up and knocked on the door. The doorbell didn’t work. I knocked several times, with no results. Maybe Sandra and her family had gone on some kind of family outing. I would come back later.

That afternoon I returned, knocked again, got no result again. I was back Sunday afternoon and early evening. No luck! What was going on? Weekdays were no better. After two weeks of this, I gave up. But I thought about her for a long time afterwards, especially when I was ‘between marriages’ the first time.

Running into Sandra

           Sandra stayed in my head for days after my walk to the high school. Mostly I wondered what happened with her. Why did she disappear? Was her family in the middle of moving out? Were they all mysteriously kidnapped by aliens?

           Then it happened. It was a Saturday afternoon. I was picking up some basic supplies at the pharmacy in the mall close to my new home. All I was consciously thinking about was whether I had remembered all the things that I had intended. I often forget things like that these days. 

           Then I saw her. I was paying for my purchases, when she passed in front of me. She looked very much like the way that I imagined Sandra would look after thirty years – still beautiful, but in a more mature way, like a fine wine. 

           Once I completed my purchasing, I ran out of the store to catch up with her. I could see her heading towards the exit. I yelled out, “Sandra, Sandra. Is that you? It is Richard. Do you remember me? She turned around, and after she gave me a thorough and critical look, she said, “I do not know who you are. I don’t remember you. I don’t know any Richards.”

           I did not want to give up easily. I could not miss this opportunity. I quickly delivered an executive summary of the night that we met. She still gave me a look, and said, “I have no idea who you are. We have never met. Leave me alone.” She then left the mall, got into her car, and drove away quickly. I stood and stared as she sped off.

           I know I should not have taken this so hard. But I did.  Fantasies can be a big part of our lives, especially when we are alone. My long ago evening with Sandra inspired such fantasies.

           Walking home, I tried to keep Sandra, both of the past and the present, out of my head, but I could not. They even mixed, with the Sandra of the dance saying to me “Leave me alone.” There was no mixing the other way around.

Next Saturday

Next Saturday I went to the mall again, this time to pick up some beer. I had run out after a week of sad reminiscing. I wasn’t looking for Sandra. I didn’t want to go through another rejection.

She saw me first. I looked her way when she called out “Richard. Richard.” She ran towards me. I had no idea what to expect. Her first words were, “I am so sorry. I told my sister Susan of our encounter, and she laughed. You see, the girl that you met all those years ago was Susan. When she met a new boy, she was always very careful. She would give my name. Even worse, with you, she didn’t ‘go home’ to our house, but one that she knew was empty at the time. It was two doors down from our place. Our next door neighbour told us about this boy that was, in her words, ‘lurking around the house’, but Susan told her the story of what she did, and we all had a good laugh from it. 

When she heard what I had to say about our encounter, she confided that she felt bad afterwards about what she did with the false name and the false house. She told me that she wished that she hadn’t done it. In her words, she was ‘caught up in excitement of the deception,’ even though she really liked you. Here’s her phone number.  Susan said that she wants you to call her, and that she is ‘free tonight,’ if you are too.