wandering down amnesia lane

Occasionally, when we get through what I have planned in my classes, I pull out one of my books filled with questions and begin asking random students random questions. Things like "What's your favorite candy" or "If you were in the jungle with your dad and your best friend and they both fell into a pit of poisonous vipers and you only had enough venom antidote to save one of them, who would you save?" This past week in one of my classes, one of the questions was, "What one person from your past that you've lost touch with would you like to reconnect with?" Being teenagers, many of them didn't have a response. Had they bothered to ask, however, I knew who mine was.

Cindy Rogers.

20 years ago I received a letter in my mailbox at MVNC, written in response to a letter I had written and handed to Cindy the weekend before. It was my first trip home after starting college and I had written the letter to express my attraction to this girl who had started attending our youth group. We had hung out a bit at the end of the summer and then I had left for Mount Vernon (ah, blessed timing). But I couldn't get her out of my head. So in a rare burst of courage, I told her how I felt (yeah, I know, it was in a letter, but that was quite the step for me - come to think of it, it still is). And then I waited, not knowing what, if anything, would come of it.

Amazingly enough, I discovered she felt the same way, that when she had seen me that weekend, she had wanted to run up and give me a hug, but didn't. I also discovered she was seeing someone else (Tony, who I had met at her house), but that she was breaking it off because it was me she wanted. I was flabbergasted. Wow! It worked! Of course, there were difficulties: she still lived Beavercreek, two hours away. I didn't have a car. She was still in high school and (gasp!) 2 1/2 years younger than me. But none of that mattered - she liked me. That was enough.

So that fall we did the whole long distance things - phone calls, letters, trips home, visits to the school. She came up at least twice - once to see the one acts I was in and once with the church group who came for a visit. And I went home when I could, including one trip to attend my very first homecoming dance. We spent as much time as we could together in those short bursts and watched our hearts break when it was time to leave. She was the second girl I'd officially dated and looking back, I was quite naive, embarrassingly so probably. But I was saved because, well, I was in college and she was in high school and all her friends were impressed she was dating a college guy. Even her parents liked me; in fact, she usually had a curfew, unless she was out with me. Then she could stay out as long as she wanted.

But eventually, as happens often with long distance relationships, it became harder and harder to keep things going. I was making new friends at college. She had her friends back in Beavercreek. All seemed to be going OK at Thanksgiving when I was home (a whole five days!). She gave me a mix tape of songs that became the beginning of my conversion from classic rock guy to indie elitist. But then cold December rolled around and I started to get the sense all was not well. Our conversations were shorter, our letters less ecstatic. By the time winter break came around, you could feel the end in the air. She was sick the weekend I got home, and when I called on Tuesday to see how she was doing, she mentioned wanting to talk. Uh oh. I asked her what was wrong and she said not over the phone, but I knew what was coming and forced her hand. So that's how we broke up - over the phone. I saw her the next Sunday at church and she gave me back my class ring. My heart was broken, but I held on to the idea that we could remain friends.

Silly rabbit.

See, all my other "relationships" had ended with me staying friends with the girl. I went out of my way to make sure we could still talk, still be in one another's lives. But Cindy wasn't comfortable with that. We shared a foggy dinner after New Year's (seriously, driving to meet her, the fog was so thick people were pulling off the side of the road) and exchanged Christmas cards and gifts (I can't remember what I gave her - a sweater perhaps? - but she gave me a gift certificate to Dingleberry's Records to buy some music). And that was it. I'd call occasionally, trying to keep communication open, but she wouldn't talk to me and eventually told me to stop bothering (stalking?) her. She claimed we had nothing in common, so even a friendship was fruitless.

That winter/spring was rough as I realized not all relationships ended well. She stopped going to my church and I lost contact with mutual friends and got involved in college life and eventually she disappeared off my radar. I'd hear occasional rumors of where she was and what she was doing, but I never saw her again.

So why is she the one that I'd like to reconnect with? Curiosity, I suppose. I wonder what became of her. I wonder what her life is like. I wonder if she even remembers me. And perhaps a bit of vanity - she's the only girl I ever dated I haven't kept in touch with (well, at least she was...) and part of me doesn't like my blemished record. But mostly I'd like to thank her for helping my transition from high school to college not be so horrible. And for giving me the gift of music. I wore out the mixtape she gave me and the bands on it - Midnight Oil, The Cure, Depeche Mode, INXS, OMD, Shriekback - drew me away from the Christian rock and hairbands of high school and into, as WOXY used to call it, the future of rock and roll. Because of her I bought my first "secular" album - INXS's Kick - and I can't imagine what my life would have been like had she not enlightened me to the joys left of the dial. I'd probably still be languishing in the Christian ghetto or celebrating the reunion tours of well-past-dead bands (I'm looking at you, Van Halen).

I've done some searching here on the internet to no avail. It's much easier for girls to find old boyfriends because, well, their names don't change. A little trickier when they don't still go by their maiden names. So I thought I'd write this post not only to indulge in a little nostalgia, but hoping that by typing her name, Cindy Rogers, I just might catch someone googling her (maybe even Cindy herself) who might pass along my post or, at the very least, let her know that our brief dalliance 20 years ago still reverberates today.

Thanks for joining me on this trip in the way back machine. I hope it wasn't too painful. We'll return to my present life, um, er, presently, including my take on Southeast Engine's set at Midpoint. I'm telling you - y'all missed it. Night. Æ

----------------
Now playing: The Cure - Pictures Of You
via FoxyTunes