When I was twenty I fell in love. His name was Robbie. He was charming, sweet, funny, smart, sexy, and kind. He had big blue eyes, a crooked smile, and played guitar. He was perfect. But he was twenty three years my senior, his children were closer in age to me than he was, and he was looking for a bride.
Growing up I always knew I wanted to be a wife and mother. It was one of those things that suited me; a home, a family, a beautiful child and a man to love. I wanted those things and I wanted them with Robbie, but he wanted them immediately, and I wasn’t ready.
We both knew our relationship was doomed. He held me close, kissed me when I cried, and told me that he would always love me, even when I found someone the right age and married that man instead of him.
I did marry a man the right age, and I had my home, and my family, and my beautiful child. Such a beautiful child. It took until I married my husband to get over my love for Robbie, but, despite no longer pining for him, I still thought of him. I still think of him.
I would love to know where he is, what he’s doing. Did he find a wife? Did he make another child like he wanted? Is he happy? I hope the answer is yes to all those things because he deserves them.
Robbie was the start of my “older man” phase, and it is a phase I never really got over. I have recently started dating younger men, and it’s great, but the older man thing still lingers on. There is a man I am talking to who reminds me so much of Robbie I’m not really sure what to do with it. He is a similar age to that which Robbie was when we were together, he is a similar charming, witty, funny, kind personality, and he is sexy. But part of me is concerned that I am not seeing him, not for who he is, I am seeing him as Robbie. My love for Robbie took years to fade, and pulled at my heart so much that I cried like it was fresh even years later. I am not sure this is a smart decision. I haven’t agreed to a date yet, and nothing has happened beyond conversation, but what if it does and I realise that in my head he is Robbie, not himself?
If you read this, Robbie, you some how stumble upon this blog written by the crazy girlfriend from nearly a decade ago, the girlfriend you lay in the grass at night to count stars with, the girlfriend you sat by the river drinking wine and eating chips with, the girlfriend you drove two hours to see just because she felt sad… I still love you. I don’t love you like I did, and I don’t expect to ever see you or hear from you, I don’t expect or want a relationship with you. I’ve moved on. But I love you. I hope you have happiness and love in your life, I hope you have found someone else to dance with, someone else to laugh with, someone else to count stars with. There have been a lot of men move in and out of my life over the years, some in relationships, some just friendships, but you are one of the few who I hold onto. If I let the memory of you go I feel like I will be losing part of myself because my relationship with you shaped part of who I am. I love you. Pure, simple, uncomplicated, love. Just love.