Seeing him after 10 years

Was cleaning out my drafts folder and found this post, written in November but never published. I need to get on the ball! Here it is, just imagine it’s right around Thanksgiving that you are reading this …

It’s impossible to describe what exactly was going through my head as I opened the door to the first real sight of him in 10 years. I was nervous before he arrived, pacing all over the house and checking my hair about 5 times in the mirror. I’m certain Jeff was about to strangle me. In fact, I’m more certain the glass of wine Jeff gave me was more to calm me down than anything …

But then there Kyle was – my first real boyfriend, standing on my front porch, the first time I’d laid eyes on him this millenia. I didn’t think, I just gave him a hug and hoped he didn’t notice my hands were shaking. Then he walked in and I was able to get a real look at him. My first thought: He looks much better than his Facebook pictures (and any pictures I would later take that week; I think he’s just not photogenic – no offense, Kyle …). My second thought: He seemed … smaller to me. Shorter somehow. Not larger than life as I remembered him in high school.

He’s not short, by any means. In fact, he may even be taller than Jeff, who is 6’3″. And I haven’t grown so much since high school, so why the difference? Was it my heeled boots? Or was it that he was no longer on a platform hovering above me, the senior football player in him turning me into the shy sophomore?

Before I knew it we were all sitting on the couch enjoying a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau and catching up. Husband, meet first boyfriend. First boyfriend, meet husband. The common denominator will sit there quietly with butterflies in her stomach while you two get to know each other.

OK, so maybe I’m being a little melodramatic here (in actuality, I’m just hoping I was better at hiding it than I think). But after some wine we went to the bar and had beer. And after beer it was as if we’d never not been in touch …

We drank Stella and Blue Moon all night while we listened to karaoke. The karaoke guy tried to get us to sing this song, which would have been humorously fitting, but Kyle refused. And I refused too, but after one or two more beers I so would have done it … But instead of singing badly and making fools of ourselves, we talked to each other and we talked to everyone in the bar. We laughed and had a great time and I wondered why we didn’t just drink more beer in high school.

It wasn’t long into the visit before we fell right into comfortable, as if we’d always been buddies who hang out a few times a week. One thing I noticed (and it freaked me out a little, I’ll be honest!) is Kyle and Jeff have a lot of common traits … sense of humor, career, the way they interact with people, love of cooking, desire to poke fun of me …

The bottom line is – exes can be friends, and this is proof, and Jeff and I look forward to planning a trip to Phoenix before too long to visit his neck of the woods! I’ll leave you with a then and now, which Kyle was so nice to pose for and Jeff was so nice to photograph … (Editor’s note: This post was written so long ago that he now lives in Kansas City. But all other details remain intact!)

Kyle and Melissa, January 1994.
Kyle and Melissa, January 1994. Nice retainer, Melissa.
Kyle and Melissa, 2008
Kyle and Melissa, November 2008. Nice 'stache, Kyle.