Conversations Over an Uneaten Dinner

I ate two bites of my meal. I wasn’t hungry when we got there and the stress and anticipation of the situation did nothing to improve my appetite. I hadn’t seen Madeleine in nearly nine years and yet there we were talking, eating (sort of), and laughing. In so many ways it felt incredibly comfortable, like we could’ve just picked up where we left off. Except we're both married to someone else. She has an eight year old daughter and a marriage in shambles. And I’m happily married. Besides, who knows where we really “left off” in 1996?

After her final letter in March of 1997 stating that we could no longer keep up our flagging correspondence and her decision to end any and all contact I acted as though she had died. Looking back now, that coping mechanism may have been naïve. I had just started my relationship with the future Ms. stu and I’ll admit to a sensation of relief when Madeleine said we could no longer write or contact one another. Contact had been slim and spare for over six months as it was, but the set-in-stone manner of her letter allowed me to finally move on completely. So she died in a figurative way and I mourned her death and focused on a new life at my new school and a blossoming relationship with the future Ms. stu.

But now she’s back. She’s not just alive, but she lives only a matter of miles from me and my new life. And now my former life grinds against my new one like two granite slabs.

We stayed at the restaurant for about an hour and then walked around the old neighborhood. We went down past the beach where we used to swim at midnight and walked for nearly two hours down by the tree lined creek that makes you feel like you’re a hundred miles from the city—until an airliner roars over head and literally shakes you back into reality.

The conversation flowed through some expected subjects. Favorite memories, how our families are doing, what is going on in our lives now—but couched within these were the hints of unfinished business. She said that she always knew it was only a matter of time before we met again and had these conversations. To me it seemed impossible that we should meet again. I had moved on and put her in the ground. How could we possibly meet again? Sure, I thought we might accidentally cross paths at a grocery store or something, but not even knowing where she lived, and assuming it was not here, I figured this was remote at best.

We couldn’t stop talking, until I had to go and we artificially ended the conversation. There was much left unsaid. I never asked her if she was still a born again Christian (a major factor in our break-up, or so I believe), and I hadn’t yet comprehended the timeline of her pregnancy and the end of our contact. She got pregnant in matter of weeks after she returned to Washington. We exchanged some letters and had phone conversations while she was pregnant, yet she never told me. I’m having a hard time dealing with this. Is it as simple as that she felt she needed to move on? Was she too ashamed to tell me? Did she think it would hurt me too much? Did she feel as thought it was none of my business? I don’t have the answers yet. In a recent e-mail she told me she wants to tell me. Ultimately it probably doesn’t matter, but a large part of me really wants to know.

I feel really, really bad for how this is affecting Ms. stu. I have been very up front with her about what has been going on because I don’t want to hide anything. At the same time I feel as though I shouldn’t be so open. The feelings are raw and unprocessed. I know she is confused by it all and more than a little threatened. I don’t want to do anything that could hurt her. I love her so much and she and I are so wonderful together. Yet it hurts her. But at this point I feel as thought it is something I need to follow through on.

Tonight I had a very intimate conversation with my two good friends, Joe and Mike. I needed to get a fresh perspective on what is going on. Neither of them knew Madeleine or knew me when I was with her. Ultimately they suggested that I don’t tell Ms. stu as much about what is happening. I don’t think I’ll follow their advice. I can’t hide anything from her and still feel like I’m being faithful. She deserves better than that.