30 Hours

I had always been eager to love. Brimming with admiration for anyone that wasn't me, that I could bounce off of and grow in a direction towards who I wanted to be as opposed to who I was. I convince myself they made me better, they helped me become who I am today and to a degree that's true, only through experience. It would be harsh to say any relationship I've had was a mistake, perhaps closer to a misstep. So when a colleague suggested I join Tinder, I was sceptical.

He insisted it would be fun, I wouldn't have to treat it anymore than a game of 'hot or not', to which I shamefully conceded, it sounds like a fine distraction from the single life I was so unfamiliar with. As a serial monogamist, I always jumped in head first hoping for the best and historically, I always wound up hurting, even if self inflicted.

Tinder's meat market mentality never appealed to me, but one face showed up and I had to know more. I had to speak to her. As it happens she wound up being one of 4 matches I would have in the time I used Tinder, and we hit it off straight away. We spoke for a couple of weeks before meeting up and we were both absolutely buzzing. We couldn't stop talking, we had so much in common, including how we ended up on Tinder in the first place. She just had this vibe, I think that's what it comes down to, it's unexplainable.

We had a very chilled out date, sat on the beach, got a drink, wound up back at mine, watched a movie and went to bed. It wasn't until the morning that anything *happened*. And when it did, it was beautiful... for me at least. I don't know what she was looking for but everything seemed perfect. I told her I was going to fall in love with her... Dumbass. I was right though, but it didn't need saying.

Regardless, we spent most of that day together too, we slow danced to music, we played chess, we talked and watched TV and napped and just enjoyed each others presence. She was the most incredibly Tetris and Minesweeper player I have ever seen. I didn't realise something like that would seem so attractive to me. It was the perfect day, truly.

What I couldn't get my head around was the level of joy I felt, just complete ecstasy in spite of the stresses of my life and job at the time. I think I had finally found someone with whom I could be authentically me, I didn't worry or pretend or seek to stray from who I am. She made me more myself, she valued me and helped me to see it without even trying. It was our first date but we ended up spending 30 wonderful hours together. 30 perfect hours that no one can take away.

I watched her on the bus as it drove away, a habit from my childhood when I'd soak in every moment I could see my Dads car before he turned the corner, but I turned and walked away, genuine tears in my eyes because I couldn't contain just how happy I was. I knew I'd see her again, it was too perfect not to follow up. Or so I thought.

It was only a couple of days later when she called it off, she was moving to Switzerland (somewhere I had obsessed with going to leave since I was a kid) to pursue her career and stay with family. She had a month or so and didn't want to progress in something that wouldn't last. Or she didn't really like me at all, or she used me for sex or a million other reasons that don't give her enough credit. Needless to say I was completely crushed. This love I had prophesised had blossomed in my mind, I suspected the serial monogamist in me but this was different. This was real and substantial and new.

I pleaded my case, I tried to understand where her head was at but she had made up her mind and that was that. I respected her decision and tried to move on. We've spoken a few times since, just casually, but what I suspect she doesn't know is I think about her every day. I have done for the last year and a half. Everyday I try to work out how I can get to her, 'win' her back.. That love and joy is still in me and it belongs to her exclusively and I don't know what to do about it.

I don't know how to explain this situation to people, because on paper I'm the crazy person that's obsessed over a girl I knew for a few weeks and went on one (albeit lengthy) date with, so I just don't say anything. I don't want to cheapen the memory by allowing people access to enough information about it to make jokes, or tease or anything like that. I don't want to build up an immunity to the sensitivity of this because it currently sits that purely in my heart.

I can never explain to people the level of grief when she left, the fact that my heart left with her and my mind wandered while my body went day to day as an empty shell. That I can't face another serious relationship because I can't give up the idea that it'll be she and I one day. That she's the reason I've dropped my life to start over elsewhere.. How do you explain that kind of impact based on 30 hours of exposure?

She made me realised I had never loved anyone quite like that before, begging the question whether I had ever loved at all? I think about this a lot, because I have certainly loved, just not that intensely. The kind of love that seems all encompassing until something like this comes about. It levels up each time and if the next person has any more of a hold on me, I think it just might kill me. I continue to live with a broken heart from this, a significant portion of me belongs to her and always will.

I wonder if she thinks of me. I wonder if she cares, if she misses me, if she's okay. I wonder if it was hard for her to leave or if it was a relief. I wonder if I'll ever understand, ever move on, ever love like that again. Maybe that's what love is, some grand unanswered question manifesting as a million little ones until you find the right person and boom, every answer incarnate, in a way you couldn't possibly explain. Where it just makes sense and you don't worry any more.

I yearn for that clarity every day, the eye opening experience that was those 30 hours. I yearn for a moment more with her, but for now I'll have to settle for seeing her in the face of others on the street, or hearing her voice in the back of my head, or dreaming of a world where I left with her. Some kind of comfort because what was left behind was not comfortable. Though I suppose that's the risk with love, it's beautiful when it works, not so much when it doesn't.