Ghost of lovers past

In a way, I did see this coming. I remained in denial until tonight.

I saw one of my former boyfriends, Helmut, again.

First, I don't use real names when it comes to friends, family, even ex-lovers. So, even Helmut is protected. That doesn't mean I like him, though.

A few weeks ago a colleague from Solano Christian Singles, of which I was a core group member, asked me if I would take over hosting an event tonight, April 19, at Trinity Lutheran Church in Fairfield. I was hesitant because I had left the group on New Year's Eve because I wanted more time to focus on my writing. But Tess, who is dedicated to the group and understood my time constraints and frustrations with the group, was the one doing the asking. So, I acquiesced.

The party had a '60s theme. I bought some sodas, Chex Mix, Lil' Smokies, and barbecue sauce. I also bought three 1960s music compilation CDs with me. The games, decorations, sound system, candies, and cake were handled by other core group members. By 6 p.m., the start of the dance, people slowly began to arrive. Shortly after 6 p.m., as I was preparing the orange sherbet/7-Up punch, I heard a familiar basso profundo voice -- Helmut! My heart sank to my stomach. Whatever appetite I had vanished.

But it wasn't as if, in a way, I wasn't warned. For the past several weeks, I've had dreams of seeing Helmut again. We had dated from October 1990 to August 1991. We broke up shortly after a mishap in which I was supposed to meet Helmut at a restaurant before attending a Diana Ross concert at the then-Concord Pavilion. I forgot where I was supposed to meet him. So, I went to the concert, hoping Helmut might have went there to wait for me. He wasn't in front of the gate. So, I watched the concert alone. The next day, we got into a fight on the phone about my forgetting where Helmut was. Feeling cornered and guilty, I hung up on him. He broke up with me soon thereafter. It was ugly.

I saw Helmut twice since the breakup. The first time was at a festival in Oakland around 1994. He was with a female friend when I arrived to sit down to enjoy some jazz. When I saw the two of them, I hurriedly left the park, took the BART train back to Walnut Creek, where I was living, drove home, and cried. The second time was 2001 at a Sade concert, also at the now-Sleep Train Pavilion, where I was writing a review as a freelancer for The Oakland Tribune. Helmut was one of the ushers. I sneered at him whenever he'd pass. But I had never seen him at the Danceasy ballroom in El Cerrito, where I had resumed classes in 2002 and had been going there on and off since. (We had taken ballroom dance classes together, which made some tense moments. He lacked rhythm. I wouldn't follow someone who lacked rhythm.)

So, when he walked him saying "Hello" in that booming bass voice, I wanted to run. But I was in the corner of the church kitchen. And when Delilah had to return to the kitchen to cut the bread for sandwiches, and Helmut offered to help, I felt trapped. Again.

Delilah introduced Helmut and me. At first, I said "Hello" as if I hadn't seen him before. He admitted to Delilah that we had met. I said that we had met at different social functions. I never admitted to her that he was once my lover, the man who said he wanted to marry me someday.

I excused myself to see if my former core group colleague and friend Lisa was coming with the ice. After a couple of minutes, Lisa drove her Civic into the driveway. As I strode up to the car, she rolled down the passenger-side window.

"My ex-boyfriend is here!" I said. "And I can't leave because I'm in charge of this thing! And I can't curse here."

"Go on the sidewalk and get it out there," Lisa said.

I said every curse word I could think of, but quietly so I wouldn't disturb the neighbors across the street. Before we entered, Lisa took my hand and we prayed The Serenity Prayer: "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

"I pray that prayer a lot," she said.

Then I helped Lisa in with the ice.

During the evening, Helmut would talk with other guests and eventually sat at a table across from Lisa and me. He asked about my life and where I attend church. I didn't want to seem too rude, but I hesitated to say where I worked, at first. He teaches at Vacaville High School, around the corner from where I live. He bought a home in Vallejo. I said I bought a townhome in Vacaville. He occasionally attends the Methodist Church in Napa.

Why the #$%@ did I say what I did, where I worked, or where I worship? I wanted to kick myself.

Then I would go off in the kitchen and have temper tantrums with God. I asked Him why he would bring Helmut into my life now, of all times. And why did He bring Helmut to a place where I can't kick him in the cojones, punch him in the jaw, or crush his instep. And what did Delilah do with that ginsu knife?

During the evening I walked around checking the music that was playing, nibbling some snacks, if only half-heartedly, dancing to some favorite tunes, and sitting with guests chatting. Helmut was his usual charming self to the guests and was being friendly to me. I was in too much shock to take much notice.

Around 7 p.m., he finally left. Before going to his truck, he approached me and said goodbye to me. "Take care of yourself," I said. "You too," he said, patting my shoulder.

I told two other female guests that the guy who left was my ex-boyfriend. I said nothing to Delilah, who seemed to enjoy Helmut's attention. I chose not to mention my previous dating status. I figured that if the two dated, that would be Helmut's story to tell, not mine.

I did have some fun with the few people who were there. About nine people showed up for the dance. But core group members Mike and Delilah took pictures of some of us dancing and clowning around on the digital camera and printed copies for each of us. By the time we finished cleanup, it was 10 p.m. I arrived home at 10:20 p.m.

After I let one cat outside, I began bawling. I remembered all the physical and emotional pain that Helmut caused me. How could we possibly be friends after all he put me through? I can accept that we weren't good for one another, that our relationship was emotionally unhealthy. But the aftereffects were awful.

Maybe I still have some work to do toward forgiving Helmut and moving on with a future relationship.

And wouldn't you know? There was a full moon tonight.

Writing Diva