Opening The Vault: Part Forty Five

Regardless of time and distance, there are some old loves that linger long after a relationship formally ends. For me, that’s never been the case more than it was with my California-based ex Mark (a.k.a Sparky).

After breaking up with Sparky in June of 1995, we remained in touch. Six months later, he flew to New York for the holidays -- an encounter that confirmed both our lingering feelings and the explosive differences that made me walk away.

About a year later and just days after my breakup with subsequent boyfriend Larry, Sparky found himself in New York again, this time on business. I now Open The Vault and take you back to November of ‘96...

New York, NY
November 2, 1996

Dear Diary,

Sparky and I were reunited tonight -- and, amazingly so, that old magic is still there between us.

When he arrived at my place, I gave him a quick hug and peck on the cheek, uncertain of how affectionate to be. Then, in my room, Sparky beckoned--

“Come here -- I need a better hug,” and we embraced gain.

As I squeezed him tightly, all those familiar warm feelings flooded every part of me. And he noticed how I looked -- several times.

“I never think you can get more beautiful,” he murmured. “But you always do.”

Girafe: Sparky and I reunited over dinner at this fabulous (and now, sadly, long gone) UES restaurant

Sparky pulled me close to him and held my hand as we walked to Girafe restaurant for dinner. He complimented me again and then we finally kissed, a brief but loving kiss.

Our conversation was full of reminiscing and references to what we’ve experienced separately since seeing each other last Christmas. Sparky mentioned his new live-in girlfriend. I filled him in on romantic and career events of the past year, unable to resist dredging up the problems we’ve had. He wistfully observed that I only seem to remember the “bad stuff.”

Attempting to justify some of the conflict between us, he reiterated his frustration about our geographically and age challenged situation.

“I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said tenderly. “I would have married you -- I still would.”

We kissed again, a passionate kiss that felt so much like years ago, and Sparky quipped that we should leave everything behind and fly to Fiji.

Back at my place, we fell onto the bed, hugging and kissing again and again.

“So what else do you have to tell me?” I asked.

“Just I love you,” he said, reading my mind.

“I love you too,” I said.

* * *

Yes, the first night of a reunion with Sparky never failed to be blissful. The problem was we couldn’t seem to maintain that high -- a fact of which I was painfully reminded the next day.