My first love was unexpected to me for most of my life. Somehow it was obvious to everyone else. We'll call him Peter.
He was the oldest son of immigrants. An incredibly shy, smart, and calm boy carried too much weight on his shoulders. He did it willingly and out of love, but it was still too much for one person.
We ended on bad terms. But I look back on memories of him fondly now. He was my first romantic love, and as an adult, I see him as a battle buddy. We weren't ever soldiers, but we go to war with the weight of our struggles every day. We're brothers in arms.
After I wrote my book, I sent him a copy of my book with this letter:
I feel like I wanted to say more.
Senior year was really stressful for both of us; more so than the average. I knew your depression had gotten really bad, but I couldn't really get through to you enough to help, which freaked me out. I tried to just keep the line of communication open as best as I could.
It seemed like a lot more rumors were going around senior year; I assume that it was people distracting themselves from their own stress. I remember there being one that I died, that I was moving to a different state, that I was pregnant, and at the same time there was one that I was a slut and another that I was a prude. Those seem mutually exclusive, but high school logic, I suppose.
I did have some extra stress from trying to figure out my sexuality. I suspected I was different in junior high, but I kind of blended in with the “wait until marriage” crowd. I assumed that sexual attraction and desire started around 17/18 and it did not. Eventually, I figured out that I'm on the asexual spectrum, but as a teenager, I had the internal battle of figuring out if I was “broken”. Also just the “ick” of being asexual and listening to a lot of peers talk about sex a lot.
I figured if I mentioned this to you then, it would have freaked you out - especially since you didn't date.
I had a wild combination of that, health issues, big life changes, and just an entire ensemble of things that are difficult to handle. [Redacted] was/is really supportive of my Asexuality and figuring that out. He knows a few people who are also asexual and so he introduced me to them. He's Christian and we obviously weren't married, so there wasn't any pressure in any direction. Not very common. Then we had gotten really close sophomore year and talked a lot. I fear that maybe people started to maliciously compare us or spin some rumor, it seemed like you gradually resented me and would assign a negative motive to everything. I have a memory of talking to someone and I said, “Oh you know him?” You responded by angrily saying that I wasn't the only person you knew. I don't know where that came from. I do know that it hurts to have the worst assumed of you when there wasn't an ulterior motive.
I'd be lying if I said that I didn't miss you sometimes, It's rare to find people that you can talk to and not run out of topics. I have thought about you occasionally over the years and wondered what you were doing now and the type of man you became. You were smart and responsible, which everyone knew. But behind the professional exterior, you were funny and kind, a good singer, a gentle and loving brother, and even sometimes talkative. I think people would be the most surprised by the last one.
I hope that the Peter behind the exterior has been able to come out more often. You looked happiest when you weren't so guarded, but feared that it would be rejected. Perhaps sometimes you even expected to be rejected and by trying to protect yourself, you rejected the outside and prevented yourself from being accepted - even by yourself.
You said that you hoped we would talk again in the future; I figured 10 years was enough time.
I promised myself that if I survived everything, that I'd live a life where I took chances and didn't live with regret of the things I didn't do or say. So, I feel that I should confess something: I had feelings for you. You didn't date, so I pushed them aside. As soon as I thought I had buried them, they'd come back again. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to put you in an awkward position or damage our friendship. But in addition to you being one of my closest friends in high school, I had strong feelings for you. You and I felt like magnets and when I tried to pull away, I would just go right back.
That said, this will be the last time I will try to contact you. I felt I needed to tell you about what happened to me and to confess. I've left you a way to contact me, if you want to reconnect. It is completely in your hands. I will consider this closure, if that is what you want. It's a lot to process, so I don't expect an immediate response. Just don't be like me and wait 10 years and several near death experiences to say what you wanted to before.
I wish you and your family peace and happiness either way.
Sincerely,
Lori Adams
