The Sophomore

            After The Engagement That Didn’t Happen, I thought I’d sworn off younger men. But here I was, going out with a guy who was eight years my junior and, in fact, a college sophomore. Still, his well-written and witty emails had me intrigued, and the chiseled abs didn’t hurt.

            He was bold enough to go on a triple date with my friends for a first date. To be a stranger in a close-knit group can be intimidating, but he handled it well and a good time was had by all. After dinner, he and I separated from the group for an evening at a hilarious comedy show.

            This guy had an almost unsettling honesty to him (did he really ask me about coloring my hair?), but he was equally charming. He was my perfect balance of complimentary and flirty without being cheesy or pushy. By the end of the night, I knew I at least wanted to know more about this curious being.

            Over the next several days, we saw each other often. I learned that his honesty went both ways. I enjoyed having the freedom to ask otherwise invasive questions about his feelings and his history. His answers were insightful and raw. His kisses left me daydreaming about him when we were apart.

            Alas, it was over before it really began. Just as I was contemplating him as boyfriend material, his Achilles’ heel was exposed. What I had initially seen as a sensitivity and self-awareness became apparent as an anger and resentment over past hurts. A broken childhood, the traumas of war (he had completed tours in the Middle East), and a bitter divorce by the age of twenty-six had left him too wounded.

            One of the lessons I have learned best in life is that you can’t change someone who doesn’t want change. I am very willing to be supportive of the struggles that come with change, but this guy wasn’t ready to let go and move on. Every happy moment was overshadowed by a painful memory or a resentful accusation. In short, he was too stuck in the past to enjoy the present.

            During what was to be one of our last kisses, he stopped to talk about how much he dreaded going to work. I understood his frustration over moving from a respected military position to a mundane retail job, but I couldn’t excuse the thought usurping our experience together. He recognized it too, as he commented on not being ready for a relationship.

            It was refreshing to meet someone with whom I could be blunt and share private thoughts. Still, it’s impossible to move on with the future until the past can be left behind. We choose whether the mistakes that we’ve made or had committed towards us are beneficial or paralyzing. I hope my sophomore can one day choose to let go and move on. He’s got a lot of great qualities that he’s not able to see while living in the past.