Sliding Google Doors
Bored and with a bad cold yesterday, I played a little bit on Google, looking up just about everyone I've ever known. I ended up having two very strange Google experiences. One, an interesting coincidence. The other, a melancholy visit to the past.
First, I googled my own full name, curious about whether my maiden or married name has more entries, at this point. When I've googled my maiden name in the past, I've generally gotten some entries about me and some about a woman living in Australia. This time, I got her Facebook page, so out of curiosity, I sent her a message. From her Google entries, I know is that she's 5'10", blond, and 23 years old. Gee, we're practically twins. Anyway, I hope she answers; it could be interesting.
The second Google encounter was less of a whimsical coincidence and more of a solemn heart-wringer. I googled my very first love. At age 16, I had been drawn to him because of his idealistic, save-the-world attitude. I was likely already on my path to Peace Corps service and was completely taken with him. We only dated for a few months, but in high school time, it was enough to be forever changed.
Unfortunately, he turned out to be a really screwed up kid with a broken family and a drug problem. The affair was short-lived, due to his substance abuse and "free love" attitude. He broke my little adolescent heart, and it was crumpled for quite a few years, afterward. You just don't forget a first heartbreak that easily.
So, I googled him, along with other exes and old friends from decades past. Only two entries came up. One with his name followed by the dates 1972-2007. Hmm. Sounds like the beginning of an epitaph. The other entry was a MySpace page, on which his friends had written, "R.I.P."
My first love, it turns out, had drown in a swimming pool. With a little more research I found out that he had, apparently, been drunk with some friends. It seems he had never stopped his substance abuse. I also found out that the date of his drowning was the day before my wedding, while my friends and family were having a celebratory pool party.
*shiver*
Apparently, he had been well-loved by many in the pseudo-hippie community. He had had three children and had been living with a woman who had loved him very much. There was a large turnout at his funeral, which brought people together after years of separation.
It was nearly 17 years ago that we briefly dated, and yet, I find myself having a Sliding Doors moment around the situation. His future, my future, might have been different if either of us had made a different decision back in the summer of 1991. Strange how small decisions make a huge difference in the course of a life.
Sometimes, the things that break our hearts and seem as though they might crush our very essence at the time, turn out to be events that save us from a much worse fate later on. In a different world, they could have been my children without a father. It scares me a bit that I didn't walk away from him. I'm glad that, though I was too young to have the sense to put an end to our relationship, he broke my heart and left me alone when I was still pliable enough to heal and make a better life for myself.
In the end, it sounded like he had a life he wanted. Traveling, free-loving, and making friends out of strangers. I'm happy he got to have that life for as long as he did. Being human is amazing in that we can feel sadness, relief, caring, and wistful happiness... all at one time.
First, I googled my own full name, curious about whether my maiden or married name has more entries, at this point. When I've googled my maiden name in the past, I've generally gotten some entries about me and some about a woman living in Australia. This time, I got her Facebook page, so out of curiosity, I sent her a message. From her Google entries, I know is that she's 5'10", blond, and 23 years old. Gee, we're practically twins. Anyway, I hope she answers; it could be interesting.
The second Google encounter was less of a whimsical coincidence and more of a solemn heart-wringer. I googled my very first love. At age 16, I had been drawn to him because of his idealistic, save-the-world attitude. I was likely already on my path to Peace Corps service and was completely taken with him. We only dated for a few months, but in high school time, it was enough to be forever changed.
Unfortunately, he turned out to be a really screwed up kid with a broken family and a drug problem. The affair was short-lived, due to his substance abuse and "free love" attitude. He broke my little adolescent heart, and it was crumpled for quite a few years, afterward. You just don't forget a first heartbreak that easily.
So, I googled him, along with other exes and old friends from decades past. Only two entries came up. One with his name followed by the dates 1972-2007. Hmm. Sounds like the beginning of an epitaph. The other entry was a MySpace page, on which his friends had written, "R.I.P."
My first love, it turns out, had drown in a swimming pool. With a little more research I found out that he had, apparently, been drunk with some friends. It seems he had never stopped his substance abuse. I also found out that the date of his drowning was the day before my wedding, while my friends and family were having a celebratory pool party.
*shiver*
Apparently, he had been well-loved by many in the pseudo-hippie community. He had had three children and had been living with a woman who had loved him very much. There was a large turnout at his funeral, which brought people together after years of separation.
It was nearly 17 years ago that we briefly dated, and yet, I find myself having a Sliding Doors moment around the situation. His future, my future, might have been different if either of us had made a different decision back in the summer of 1991. Strange how small decisions make a huge difference in the course of a life.
Sometimes, the things that break our hearts and seem as though they might crush our very essence at the time, turn out to be events that save us from a much worse fate later on. In a different world, they could have been my children without a father. It scares me a bit that I didn't walk away from him. I'm glad that, though I was too young to have the sense to put an end to our relationship, he broke my heart and left me alone when I was still pliable enough to heal and make a better life for myself.
In the end, it sounded like he had a life he wanted. Traveling, free-loving, and making friends out of strangers. I'm happy he got to have that life for as long as he did. Being human is amazing in that we can feel sadness, relief, caring, and wistful happiness... all at one time.
posted by Bert at 1:05 PM
1 Comments:
Oh my...that gives me the shivers, too. Isn't is amazing how those people that made such an impact on us when we were younger seem to continue haunting us later in life? I've often wanted to Google my first love (and first real heartbreak) but have been too chicken to do it. Your story makes me consider actually doing it, just to see.
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