Late last year, someone I had known in college, but hadn’t seen in more than twenty years, messaged me. We got together for coffee, and he updated on people I had known in college.
“I always thought of him as the one who got away,” I said when we got around to this one guy I had really liked but was too scared to do anything about.
I do think of him as the one who got away, but I could not believe I had actually said it out loud. Vulnerability is not my strong suit, so this verbal admission surprised me.
Later that same week, I heard a radio show about regret, and I recalled that conversation. I regret that I let my fears determine my future.
I started to think of other times when I had closed the door on the possibility of relationship. I remembered a man I had met at the end of my summer semester in Spain. He was an architect in Algericas, and I was about to leave the country. I said I would write when I got home, but I didn’t. To what end?
Similarly, the guy in upstate New York I had met on a weekend trip to Ithaca. He wrote me beautiful love letters and even drove the 200 miles to see me several times. But I was not going to move to New York, and he had no desire to move to Pennsylvania, so what was the point of pursuing a relationship?
Geographically undesirable, I thought both times.
Looking back, I can see that pragmatism was the coverup for my fear.
Last week, I watched the movie Frozen (not for the first time, but the first time in several years).
My mom died last June, and throughout the final months of her life, I had advised my sisters (and told myself) to let it go when people said things that were critical of the care we were giving my mom.
I must have said let it go hundreds of times in those last six months of my mom’s life.
After my mom died and people continued to express their opinions about what we should have or could have done to extend my mom’s life (even though she was 95 years old and had major health issues), I suggested to my sisters that we get Elsa t-shirts that said let it go.
I decided to watch Frozen again if for no other reason than to see Elsa letting go.
The line that caught my attention this time, though, was only an act of true love will thaw a frozen heart.
I wondered if my heart is frozen. Had all those times when I had said “no” to the possibility of love frozen my heart? Had shutting down on potential closed me to opportunity?
What can I learn from my past decisions and regrets? How do I move past fear to freedom? How do I let go and become open to love?
Madeline Bialecki 
This is an extraordinary piece of writing. It’s rich, deep, transparent and vulnerable.
It is about the most important part of the life God grants each of us, love.
The most difficult assertion I ever had to make was when I was one of two men who loved my wife. I told her, it’s him or me and the consequence was 44 plus years of married life. It is and always has been the most challenging relationship in my life. But it has been worth every single sacrifice.
Yes, I am an incurable romantic. It is NEVER to late.
Thank you, for your thoughtful response. Congrats on 44 years of married life! I, too, believe it is never too late, and I, too am a bit of an incurable romantic. I am thinking I might run into my Spanish architect when I am in Europe this year!
This is an extraordinary piece of writing. It’s rich, deep, transparent and vulnerable.It is about the most important part of the life God grants each of us, love.
The most difficult assertion I ever had to make was when I was one of two men who loved my wife. I told her, it’s him or me and the consequence was 44 plus years of married life. It is and always has been the most challenging relationship in my life. But it has been worth every single sacrifice.
Yes, I am an incurable romantic. It is NEVER too late.
Really enjoyed the message from this statement. Enjoy your day with the girls. Pam
Thanks, Pam
I agree with artsandletters9, it’s an extraordinary piece of writing. I love this!!!
We all have those stories. So interesting to wonder if it’s one’s own frozen fears.
I think the concept extends to friendship as well. How often do we risk telling a potential woman friend how much they mean to us?
Thanks, Philly. I agree that fear can prevent all kinds of loving relationships.
Wondering why people would feel the need (even think it was any of their business) to opine about the way you took care of your mother. 🤨 Maybe they were dealing with their own issues/second guessing themselves.
Your experience with the “ones who got away” sound like the plot of a romantic film, where the love interests finally come together in the end. I hope you have your own happy ending someday.
I think that when someone is terminally/on hospice, others’ fears can be touched and they speak out of their own fears. I think it is especially true when the person who is dying is young, but death is something our culture does not talk about. Even though my mother was 95, we heard from people who thought we should have done more to keep her alive. Some people cannot admit or accept that we are all going to die.
I moved to Michigan 9 years ago in part because my mom was getting older. When she died, friends asked if I was moving back east, but I am happy to be here. I say, though, that if I meet someone when I am in Europe….Hope springs eternal.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. If you ar ewriting a rom-com script and needs backstories, I have a few.