Evolving

Yes, she could have made some different choices in life, but she did what she did, both good and bad, and she turned out to be who she now is. It's simply just growing up and moving on. But as the years passed, she continued to dream that all was not too late and that something genuinely romantic might eventually happen to her.  

In her wild, heady past, most female friends had a similar ilk and would hunt in bars to find a guy to flirt with. After a heavy, boozy night, it usually ended with a quick fumble and speedy sex, which would pass for a ‘romantic interlude’ in their drunken lives.  

For her, when she reached her mid-20s, rather than the bars, she often found her workplace one of the easier places to flirt and pick up attractive young men. She worked at a university based in the centre of a large city. By 26 years old, she was beginning to feel that she had suffered the loss of her ‘youth’ and, on occasion, would stare longingly at some of the young students she taught, knowing this was ‘forbidden fruit’ as it would be frowned upon if she were found to be dating her students.  

Despite her good job and career prospects, internally, nothing had matured. She felt that the more she showed a complete lack of control and outrageous behaviour in social gatherings, the more alluring to the opposite sex she would become.

On a particular evening, her Department was celebrating the finishing touches to its new Master’s course, and all of the teaching staff were on alert ‘to get it right’ and run a highly successful course.  The course recruited an older age group, and she, the divorcee, was anxiously looking for a replacement male in her life.

In he walked, tall, blonde, handsome, smelling divine and possessing some cute European accent. Alert and interested, she immediately sashayed towards him, swinging her hips, pursing her lips recently slathered with a thick goo of deep ruby red lipstick. He seemed flattered that one of his new University teachers was giving him such rapt attention. She flicked her hair around and spent the required amount of time looking at his mouth, smiling and lowering her eyes appropriately. He seemed to pick up the signals pretty quickly despite his shyness. Her hormones were meanwhile dizzyingly leaping as she slid her eyes over him, breathing in his heady mixture of pheromones and cologne, and leaving him in no doubt she instantly wanted to have sex with him.

She caught up with him later after the Dean and Head of Department welcomed everyone, offered the attendees a glass of wine, and told them to mix and get to know one another. A short while later, the crowd of new students, university staff and Didier from Belgium fell out of the university building and set off for the nearest bar. That was her strongest memory of the evening. She got unbelievably drunk, whilst he didn’t drink at all. It never occurred to her that he was, in fact, a virgin, but she would have seduced him anyway. Unfortunately, having once safely tucked him up in her bed, she rapidly found his sexual performance to lack any excitement.  Being so drunk, she failed to make any pleasant, helpful suggestions to this very handsome young man on improving the sex act. A few months later, as she continued to be left sexually unsatisfied, she unceremoniously dumped him and went off with a much older man until it was her turn to be dumped.  

For the rest of the academic year, she rarely saw Didier. At the end of the one-year Master’s course, newly qualified as a Marine Lawyer, he jumped on a plane and flew back to Belgium, and she never gave him a second thought whilst she continued her fun life of debauchery and drink.

The years had passed, and she had left the university years ago and was now living permanently abroad. Over the years, a completely different woman had evolved. She was still considered amusing and good fun, but she was no longer described as wild, uncurbed, unrestrained or ‘difficult’. She had many male and female acquaintances, but in her later years, she had failed to find that one special friend following her second divorce.  

Out of the blue, she received a message on Facebook. She stared uncomprehendingly at the message and photo of the sender - it was from him, Didier from Belgium. The message simply said: ‘Is it really you? Are you the heartbreaker from University?’

As this was 40 years later and she had reached her mature years, to be called a ‘heartbreaker’ was such a compliment. She looked at his photo. Due to her healthy lifestyle of many years, she felt she looked relatively youthful and attractive - but hell, what a surprise he too looked young and attractive. How could all these years have passed, yet both of them frankly still appear sexy and exciting?  

They began writing to one another, and soon he told her it was the 40th anniversary of losing his virginity to her, and he could still remember that particular night vividly. She remembered little about that first night except for a vague knowledge that it had happened. She was so drunk, and despite several repeats of sexual activity with him as the drink wore off, sadly, sex with Didier was not that hot. But hell, 40 years had passed, and for someone to look that good, surely their performance must have vastly improved?

They finally arranged to speak on Skype, and his handsome face appeared on her shuddery fuzzy screen. Could it be 40 years ago?  She was suddenly overcome with nerves and shyness as she slowly realised how much she had grown older. Despite being situated in an entirely different continent and time zone, she could scarcely deal with the intimacy of the phone call. Life had been very kind to him facially, and she felt the same could be said of her. During their relatively short Skype interactions, she thought he possessed the same confident calmness he had displayed all those years ago. He now ran his own company and seemed to live the good life in Belgium. Wow, this was like a Hollywood Movie.

Eventually, after sporadic hesitant Skype calls backed up by detailed, almost intimate, daily emails where he claimed her loved her and had always loved her, she finally said to him: ‘Let’s not mess about. We get on well. I am happy to take a plane and visit you in Belgium. When will it suit?.’

He amazed her by replying: ‘No, please don’t come to see me. I had only wanted to reconnect. I wasn’t encouraging you to come and visit me in Belgium’.

‘Well, this is just weird. Why do you keep contacting me, finishing all your emails with ‘Kisses xxxxx’ and telling me how much you love me?  I remember you as being such a polite man. I was the unpleasant one, but you, you were delightful. You have piqued my interest; I am coming.’ 

She booked her plane ticket. She made a big issue of booking a hotel room to show that she was now a well-behaved lady and had no intentions of sleeping with him. She set off for Belgium, where they had arranged to reunite in the Arrival Hall.

Unusually, before the landing, she had spent an inordinate amount of time in the aircraft toilet cubicle cleaning her teeth and putting on extra makeup. She had brought him a few presents - local green tea and snacks and carefully removed them from her hand luggage, placing them in her free hand so when meeting him, she could plant a decorous peck on his cheek, making sure the presents would prevent him from hugging her uncontrollably.

Despite having seen him a few times on Skype, meeting him in real life petrified her.  Would they recognise each other? She almost jumped up and down with frustration at the slowness of the carousel until, collecting her case, she excitedly stood in the Arrival Hall, looking …… and looking. He was not there. Arriving from a foreign country, she had no mobile phone sim card or currency and was forced to stand and wait and wait.  

About an hour later, he breezed in. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he said, but at no stage offered any attempt of an explanation for his lateness. During her short time in Belgium, his general tardiness became something to get used to. As he approached her to administer the European peck on her cheek, the reek of his dirty breath hit her. His hair was in desperate need of a cut, and he wore the worst pair of jeans she had ever seen. He barely resembled the boy 40 years ago who was so smart, well-groomed, smelt so divine and wore clean, up-to-date casual clothes. Who the hell was this smelly individual who had inherited Didier’s face and body but not his wardrobe or personal hygiene standards? Having arrived off the plane, beautifully made up, gently perfumed and deodorised, she was breathing in a very unpleasant odour, and her romantic notions began to diminish rapidly. 

There were brief moments during their first evening meal when it was as if the ensuing 40 years had never existed, and they shared stories of their joint university friends and mourned the many deaths. Unfortunately, after a while, he began asking some tough questions.

‘When did you first realise you loved me?’

‘Do you mean now? Recently?’ she began uncertainly.

‘No’, he roared. ’40 years ago when you took my virginity.’

‘Didier, I’m sorry I didn’t love you then. In those days, people just slept together. I’m sure you remember I was very drunk’.

‘Ok, ok, so not the FIRST night, but after the first night, how long did it take you to fall in love with me?’

Shit, this was difficult. She had never loved him. She had dumped him fairly rapidly and gone off with someone else.

‘I’m so sorry. It was a whole different world 40 years ago. It was sex, drugs and rock and roll - not love. However, I have finally matured. I no longer drink or smoke. I have two divorces behind me. I have had several different careers and lived in other countries. Hopefully, I am not the same selfish cow I was all those years ago. Now, I am probably looking for love if we manage to hit it off, OK?

He looked horror-struck at her.

‘You didn’t love me?’

‘No, sorry.

‘But the sex was so good.’, he whined.

She took a deep breath: ’No, sorry, it wasn’t that good, but hell, that was 40 years ago; I can’t imagine how much your techniques must have improved since then’.

‘Well, we won’t be having sex during this visit. I couldn’t possibly love you. Did you think I could? That’s why I didn’t want you to come to Belgium,’ he said with a nasty, unpleasant edge to his voice.  

They looked at each other, her desperately trying to work out why they weren’t the same people. This was nothing like the virginal Didier she had known 40 years ago. Before meeting up with him, she had only concentrated on stupid inconsequential things like: 

1. Did he have any hair left? (actually loads, and it needed a damned good cutting and styling)
2. was he fat? (no, he had completely retained his body shape, and he was slim and athletic);  
3. was he an alcoholic or a drug addict? (no, he had always hated alcohol and drugs, and these didn’t seem to figure in his life at all).  

However, his hygiene standards had fallen completely. He had an overall scruffiness, and his body and teeth frankly stunk. At the airport, when he flung open his car door, the disgusting smell of the interior nearly made her pass out. (His student car used to overwhelm her with the scent of polish and perfumes intermingled with his own delightfully perfumed body odour.) Frankly, the description of his house made her shudder; and although technically fashionable, his clothes looked as if all had been bought in a charity shop and had never been washed from owner to owner. This man bore almost no resemblance to the superbly beautifully dressed, perfumed man of 40 years ago.  His business seemed to be collapsing, and he had failed at all relationships in the ensuing 40 years, including his children. 

She had clearly never listened properly to their Skype conversations and had only determinedly heard him saying how wonderful she was 40 years ago. Anything he had said that was a little strange, she had just promptly ignored as it didn’t suit her narrative. She had no idea he was doing the same thing with her conversations. If she’d listened carefully, she might have questioned his mental stability and, frankly, his general behaviour. But no, this was her 22-year-old toy boy; he almost looked the same; how couldn’t it all be perfect?

Her vision of herself was that she had evolved dramatically for the better, and lucky-old Didier would now benefit from the deep and loving relationship that she had been unable to offer 40 years earlier. Before she arrived in Belgium, she had begun seriously thinking about what she could offer him as a life partner. Perhaps with the two of them practising passionately on each other, even the sex would be glorious.

In the one week she spent in Belgium, she rarely saw him, and when she did, he proved over and over again how differently he had evolved during the 40-year gap. Despite trying to hide it, he continued to have a nasty streak that kept rearing its head. When she attempted to diverge from the earlier memories of 40 years ago and discuss his business, broken marriage, children, and social life, she couldn’t understand the most superficial conversation. He would scream at her when she gently questioned him for greater clarity. Only life as a 22-year-old sleeping with his University teacher was as clear as a bell.

The reality of the changes in Didier went far beyond his hair, clothes, and waistline. Was it family, relationships, or life situations that had so badly affected him? As she returned to the airport to leave Belgium, she considered what a lucky escape she was experiencing. Why on earth had she imagined it essential to look so youthful 40 years on, which had resulted in her buying an expensive ticket and jumping on a plane simply because he looked so good?  

She realised that with hard work and progress, she, to a certain degree, had evolved in her journey, and life had been good to her, but she felt Didier seemed to have regressed. They had kept their good looks and figures, but their mental states had changed completely. She thought she continued to improve hers continually, but in her opinion, Didier was seemingly descending into hell.

On returning home, she reviewed the reunion. Finally, the penny dropped. She had thought that her relentless self-improvement could only make her more attractive to Didier and hence develop a reignited relationship. But instead, Didier clearly remembered her strange wild personality, and it was this that had attracted him. They both bore a strong resemblance to how they looked in their early 20s, but their youthful characters bore no resemblance to the now-mature adults. If she was shocked by his appearance and behaviour, imagine how he must have reacted to her. When he was at least an hour late for the initial meeting at the airport, he would have naturally assumed that she was drunkenly holding up the airport bar and that being an hour late meant nothing. To dress up, clean his teeth, and have his haircut would have wasted unnecessary time on the drunk travelling to see him.  

In the forty years, had they changed? Yes, but not remotely in the way, probably either had thought. It certainly taught her how much growing and changing was taking place throughout her life. Her development had not stopped during her teenage years as she had always thought. Thinking about how much more was left to enjoy and discover in her final quarter made her go quite dizzy.