Opening The Vault: Part Fifty One

When it comes to breakups, some are truly final while others simply begin a new chapter in your relationship. For long distance love Mark (a.k.a. Sparky) and I, it was a case of the latter.

After our rocky bicoastal romance ended in 1995, Sparky and I continued seeing each other periodically when business brought him to New York. Each time, the powerful chemistry between us would resurface. I now Open The Vault and take you back to March of ‘97...

March 31st, 1997
New York, NY

Dear Diary,

I saw Sparky tonight for what was the briefest encounter we’ve had in the three years we’ve known each other. Amazingly enough, in the space of just a few hours, my feelings for him resurfaced with an intensity that had me in tears just a moment ago.

X Marks The Spot: Sparky and I reunited here at a now-defunct restaurant on 58th Street and First Avenue

After our tumultuous reunion last fall, I felt certain -- or as close to being certain as I can ever be about what Sparky and I have (i.e. not very) -- that each subsequent encounter would diminish his place in my heart. But it was the exact opposite that happened tonight.

I could feel the deepest emotional parts of me responding to his closeness. We lingered in one another’s arms every time we embraced. And it felt so wonderful, like it always does, when Sparky finally pulled me into a long kiss. Only one thing was missing -- those three little words.

It never really occurred to me that that would happen because, no matter what, we’ve always said “I love you” when we’re together. As if, in the middle of our overwhelming differences and impossible situation, that was the one thing I could always count on. Until tonight.

Sparky told me several times how happy he was to see me, and he was the one who initiated most of our hugs. Maybe I’m being unfair, expecting him to pick up where we left off, but he makes me believe that’s possible every time we’re together. He’s the one who reiterates how we’re at the same point in our lives, and how I should remember him in the future.

He didn’t say “I love you,” and yet he seemed truly delighted to be with me again. They say silence speaks volumes and he didn’t mention a word about his live-in girlfriend. Can I assume this means his heart still belongs to me? More importantly, why does that even matter anymore?

* * *

The question of Mark’s feelings would be answered soon after our brief reunion -- though it wasn’t enough to ward off a painful revisiting of where we’d gone so horribly wrong in the first place.