It consumed me. An unwelcome but constant companion, I could not shake the gut-wrenching despair. Everything they say about your first love is true. Even though I accepted her decision, I was devastated when my girlfriend said she wanted to see other guys. My relationship with Cindy was deep, passionate, and meaningful. I loved her and these ensuing months have not made things easier for me.
It was a clean break. Cindy moved to a city three hours away a little more than a year ago. Through I had never heard of long-distance relationship then, our relationship slowly yielded to the loneliness and pain of separation. She was only 15 when we met. Even though I was only a year older, going away to college carved an unsurmountable chasm between us. I was fortunate to attend college in my hometown. Even so, the comfort and familiarity of home was not enough to displace the crushing new demands on my time. My aspiration to qualify for a medical school placed relentless demands on me (or, so I thought), making it impossible to devote the necessary time to keep two young hearts together. We both were turning to new people to satisfy our growing loneliness. It summoned uncommon maturity from both of us to end our relationship before we started hurting each other.
Hours of study only made the emptiness worse. Hanging with my family or my high school friends did nothing to abate the gnawing agony. Weeks unfolded into months of this emptiness -- a void that was particularly profound to an 18-year-old. Maybe I needed a diversion, perhaps a part-time job. I needed the money, and a job will focus my thoughts on more benign matters.
It was a shit job but a good contrast to my study regimen. Sitting in front of a computer for a six-hour graveyard shift gave me hours to study. The quiet time allows me to catch up with my readings and assignments. I rarely saw another human being during my shift. There was ample time to stare into space. There was a large window to the side of the computer station. Few cars were moving about campus at this time of the night. Bored and alone, thoughts of Cindy punctuated the darkness. Regret and remorse found me here, too.
To be sure, I met many fun and interesting students and teachers in my classes. Wherever I turned, beautiful women surrounded me. I enjoyed flirting and banter with a few. Still, nobody who rose to my idealized standard... or, maybe, I was still too vulnerable and too afraid of being hurt. Perhaps it was a sign of progress when I began considering the possibility of talking to someone about my angst. I shuffled through the list of people who cared the most for me and decided that this was too intimate and raw to share with someone who knew me well. It occurred to me that my new boss seemed to possess the maturity and detachment to listen and not cast judgment on the torment that I just could not shake. Affable and intelligent, Hugh exuded confidence and a worldly wisdom that gave me hope that he could help me work through this.
In the short time that I knew him, Hugh and I had crafted a cordial relationship. Hugh told me stories about places he had traveled. He seemed interested in me -- my classes, my social life, and my first year in college. On a one poignant occasion, Hugh noted that I seemed blue and offered reassurance that these were the best years of my life. When I finally mustered the courage to privately talk to him about my breakup, he did so without hesitation. He closed the door to his office and gestured for me to sit. With my heart in my throat, I told him about my tender relationship with Cindy and the fact that I was still struggling after three months. "I'm really confused," I admitted. "I thought maybe something like this had happened to you and that you could help me through this. If this is in any way inappropriate or burdensome, I apologize. It is not my intent to dump my personal problems on your desk."
Sitting quietly through my account, Hugh abruptly stood. For a fraction of a second, I thought he was uncomfortable with my story and was terminating our discussion. Sensing my alarm, he quickly assured me that he needed to run an errand but wanted to hear more about my plight. "I need to run home and iron a dress shirt for a social at the university. You are welcome to go with me," he invited. "We can talk more about this on the drive."
As was drove across town, Hugh told me that problems were often disguised opportunities to attempt new experiences and to cultivate new relationships. He recounted how his travels broadened his views and that liberal arts education has the naturally tendency to narrow the number of people who we accept as compatible. "After a semester in college, you would probably find that you and Cindy don't have as much in common anymore," he offered. "Your first love was an important step for you. A good-looking guy like you should try to take in as much of the world as you possibly can."
I felt better. Maybe Hugh was right. Maybe it was time to close the chapter with Cindy and embrace everything available to me as a college student. We pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. "Come on. This won't take long. For my birthday, a friend gave me a nice bottle of scotch that I would like you to try," Hugh said as he exited his car and urgently walked toward the building. I followed him up the stairs to his second-floor apartment.
Upon entering, the simple elegance of his décor and furnishings impressed me. The rugs, wood floors and surfaces were immaculate. I detected a light aroma of vanilla. "This is nice," I said. "Did you get a decorator to do this?"
Moments later, Hugh returned from the kitchen with two glasses containing generous portions of pale gold liquid on ice. "Here," he said as he offered me one of the beverages. "No, I decorated this apartment myself," Hugh said dismissively.
Hugh continued as he motioned for me to sit on the couch. "Scotch whisky gets its color from the type of cask used. It starts out clear and acquires its color during the aging process," he said as he held up his glass to the light. "A nice metaphor to human growth, don't you think?"
"How so?" I queried.
