The Reunion That Never Was

The Reunion That Never Happened

I was a nine stone weakling when we last kissed goodbye. A slender youth with all his adult life ahead of him.  Long before the lines began to sag and the narrow waist swapped places with the broad mind I left  a tender romance and set off into the world of love and marriage.  I suppose I was fairly good looking, as well as being slightly vain about it.  There was a certain narcissistic element to my vanity..  My mum used to call me ‘Budgie’ as I tended to stare at the mirror a lot post-puberty; although never confident once I happened upon the fairer sex.  That was back in 1970…

Fast forward to 2025 and as I mentioned the slender waist of yester year has long gone.  My 24” waist became a victim of dyscalculia and became 42”  I still have a full head of hair, but silver-grey at best and the chins have multiplied too. I often wonder if Anne, my first love from 1970 and I were to meet now what our reactions would be.  She would be 68 now and probably a grandma if she ever married. I froze in my mind the last image of a lovely girl and our first tentative steps in love.  What changes have 55 years made to her? Is she grey like me or has she gained a little weight that like me she curses on the scales?

We were the product of a Secondary Modern system and were expected to fill traditional roles in the workplace.  Back then girls did Home Economics and Needlework, the boys Metalwork and Woodwork.  I went into industry; Anne’s prospects lay in secretary, dental nurse, sales assistant or something similar.  I have to say that those traditional roles have changed out of all recognition since those days and thankfully many of the traditional gender barriers have been broken down.

I wanted to write a piece on an imagined reunion, but that was not possible.  I know nothing about her journey and who she became and what life had in store for her.  Like the holiday friendships that end with “ we must keep in touch…” past romances from long ago must remain reunions of the mind and affections kept by the distant warmth of nostalgia.  Ours was a reunion that never happened.  I am glad that the reunion never happened and  possbly  the same goes for her.