Twelve years ago I met a man. He was charming and kind. He was quiet and thoughtful.
Sometimes I think of him.
We were living in Edinburgh at the time. I remember one night at a party, I had consumed my fair share of intoxicants (not to mention a full portion of haggis). I was feeling overwhelmed. After everyone else had left the party, the charming gentleman stayed with me to make sure I was all right. We talked all night. At the time, my naïve mind didn't fully comprehend the situation. I knew I had some sort of feelings for him. I couldn't conceive that he shared those feelings. I just listened to his soft, Scottish voice and fell fast asleep.
We saw each other a few times after that. As the months passed, I wound up with a heavy case of depression and found myself distancing myself from my social network. Through my muddled mental state, he was one person I always felt safe around. A gentle soul.
Years later, I learned from a mutual friend that he had had a crush on me back then. I was shocked. Back in Scotland, I took the train to Glasgow to visit him. However, he now had a girlfriend. The three of us met up for drinks and had a nice enough time. Since he was in a relationship, I figured there was no point thinking about him anymore. I came home to Vancouver and that was that.
Now, over a decade later, I find myself wondering what he's up to.