I finally have the courage, but I think it's too late.
Three years ago, I spent a summer backpacking through Ecuador. Early in the trip, I met Pancho. He was my couchsurfing host and I was staying with his family- father, mother, sisters, brother and nephew. We fell for each other the first night I was there. I will never forget, we were crossing an intersection and he looked at me, grabbed my hand and gave me a soft kiss. Three days later, he took off work to take me to the Teleferico and there he broke down crying, saying he was in love with me. I felt the same.
I ended up living with his family for the next two months. I would travel for a few days and then return for the weekend. He and I took two trips together, both incredible. When I left, we decided that we would try to make it work. But, after returning to college, I called and told him I didn't know if we should. There was no end in sight for our separation. I couldn't quit school and he had no way of coming to the States. It was a very hard break-up. He would call me all of the time, asking if I was sure it was over.
The last time he called me was in March of 2008, about seven months after the break up. He asked me one last time if I was sure it was over. I said yes. That night, at a bar, I was talking about it with some friends. I realized that I was being foolish, that I still loved him. I was graduating in a few months and had the means to move to Ecuador. To give it a shot. I didn't get a hold of him until three days later- when he told me that he had gotten married a few hours after the last time we spoke. I asked him if he loved her (she was a girl he had dated before we met) and he responded, "You know me. I can't handle having my heart broken again." I got really angry. I know I shouldn't have, but after that we didn't speak for nearly a year.
The next year, I was living in a small town and I had joined a performance poetry group. Pancho and I had begun talking again, here and there, and had decided to try to maintain the friendship. He and his wife had moved to Mexico and there was talk of me visiting, but I didn't think it was a good idea. Not yet.
I had moved to the area to do a personal inventory of sorts. This resulted in a piece about vulnerability and how my fear of love & commitment came from seeing the women of my life falling victim to men in numerous ways. Woven into the piece, was the story of Pancho & I. It was that relationship that inspired me to explore these feelings. After performing the poem for the group, I sent it, along with a long email to Pancho. I said, basically, "I feel like I owe you an explanation, for the hurt and tension that has existed between us. It's a poor substitute, but this is me trying to put my fears into words. I just need you to understand the why." Pancho called me the next day, pissed. He wanted to know why I had sent him the poem, why I was trying to confuse him. Which was never my intention. He said he had a wife now and that we should not talk any more. I respected his wishes and we left it at that.
Fast forward nine months and we began talking again. Then, about six months ago, he told me that he was not happy. He and his wife were going in different directions and were discussing an amicable divorce. And here it got weird. They, both, wanted to know how I felt. His wife had questions for me. They wanted to know if I still wanted to be with Pancho. At the time, I was planning to move to Thailand. I told him that I could not put my life on hold for a maybe. And, more importantly, I couldn't be the sole reason he left his wife. I told him I couldn't give him an answer, because their relationship was theirs. And I couldn't stand the idea of him ending a marriage for a relationship with me, when we might not even work out. At this point, we hadn't seen each other in three years.
I spoke to him again two days ago. He was surprised I was not in Bangkok, but due to unforeseen events, I was needed at home. So I stayed. He told me that his father had died two months before. It was really difficult- hearing about his passing like that. There was a time when I truly thought that Pancho's family would some day be my own. His father and I were very close. It feels so silly to mourn someone after those closest to him have already started to move on. Also, Pancho is still married. He never left and I don't know for sure, but it seems the divorce is off the table.
Last night, I had a dream. I won't go into details, but I woke up with the idea that I had to go to Mexico, to see Pancho. I know that I have always been in love with Pancho, but too scared to move on it. But, over the past few months, I have been building up my courage. Today, I realized I have the courage to do something about it. But I can't. I've cause him so much pain and confusion over the past few years. And I can't make any promises to him. I can't say for sure that we would last. But he's married still and it seems they are finding their rhythm. And I can't encroach on that. It feels silly and selfish, even, to want to tell him all of it. I know it isn't fair.
Am I right? Should I let it go? I feel that's all I can do. I don't know what is better-- to not say anything, to make no move and respect the life he is living now. Or, to say something at the risk of getting hurt and/or hurting him. But, if he still loves me, which I am pretty sure he does, is not saying anything another form of fear?
