“Uh oh!” the sound of the ICQ message arriving on my screen blared out of the speakers.
He replied.
I was 17, sitting at the desk at home, heart racing, because I just messaged the guy I have been crushing on at school. He was new to my school this year, in the 12th grade like me. He was a German exchange student with brown eyes and dirty blond hair, often wearing army pants and a burgundy hoodie. He was cute.
I didn’t know how to approach him in school. It seemed like an impossibility to just go up and talk to him. Instead, I decided to reach out the way that seemed most comfortable to me: I looked him up on ICQ and I messaged him. He replied almost immediately.It made me even more curious about him. Does he have friends? Where does he live? What does he think of it here? I introduced myself and explained how he may have recognized me from school. He did. We started chatting. Very quickly, he asked what I was up to and if I wanted to go to the movies with him. We made plans to meet at the bus terminal in a few hours.
I remember stepping off the bus onto the curb to see him standing right there waiting for me. We exchanged hellos and walked down the block to the movie theatre. I don’t remember what movie we watched that evening and we didn’t talk much before or after the movie. It was probably the first time I went to a movie alone with a boy.
The next day I invited the exchange student to join my table at lunchtime. I had 4 best friends who I did everything with: Adam, Ashley, Patti and Theresa. We have all known each other since elementary school. We were a very close-knit group of friends.
The exchange student fit in immediately and eventually started joining us on our adventures. We learned he was a year older than us, having turned 18 in the fall. And he had a girlfriend, Sofia.
Sofia was another exchange student who went to a different high school. The exchange student never introduced Sofia to Ashley, Patti, Theresa or me, but we had seen photos. She was beautiful and I was jealous. Despite the girlfriend, my crush was strong.
Our group of five had become a temporary group of six. The exchange student joined us on a camping trip, where 8 of us fit into a 6-person tent, eating McDonald’s hamburgers and nuggets stolen from the restaurant Adam and Theresa worked at. We drank Kokanee beer and made Patti siphon gasoline from Adam’s minivan to get the fire started.
One weekend we took a road trip to shop for graduation dresses. We rented a hotel room and my friends made sure that the exchange student and I shared a bed.
After a night of drinking that left Patti and I alone in the hotel room while everyone else went to the bar, the exchange student and I got under the covers together. Suddenly I felt hands touch me. I moved closer. As I nuzzled my face into the exchange student’s neck, he started lifting his hands up my torso under my shirt and grazing the bottom of my breasts. Our lips were millimetres apart when he suddenly whispered, “No, I can’t. Sofia.” My heart was crushed. I rolled over and went to sleep.
The next day we woke up with a secret neither one of us mentioned.
We graduated and the exchange student returned home. He and I kept in contact via email. Quick catch ups here and there, never losing touch for too long. These emails brought us through our college years, his mandatory military training and into becoming young adults with real jobs.
In 2013, Ashley and I were planning a trip to Europe together and thought Berlin would make a great destination. I was in year 10 of an 11 year relationship with a man who hated to travel. Since I loved to travel, my friends were my companions. I told the exchange student when we would be in Germany and he made plans for the three of us to stay with a friend of his.
He got off work on Friday, immediately hopped on the train and met us in Berlin. When we saw him approach us in the Mitte neighbourhood of Berlin, in front of the Reichstag building, he was still in the suit he wore to work. He looked amazing. I hoped I looked okay too. I was wearing my moto jacket, my favourite Coach leather boots, dark skinny jeans and a white and blue striped sweater. Ashley and I took turns giving him a hug then started walking through the centre of Berlin.
As we got familiar with each other again we learned he was single. I swear I saw disappointment in his eyes when he learned I was not.
We decided to go to his favourite neighbourhood, Friedrichshain, and party. There the exchange student brought us into a corner store where we each grabbed a beer. The teller took his cash, popped the caps for us and we walked out of the store drinking our beer. I liked Berlin. A lot. As we made our way through the historic neighbourhood known for its punk and metal scene, we sat on a staircase in an alley to drink our beers while people watching.
After we finished our first beer, we moved to a bar where the three of us would spend the rest of the night drinking, telling tales of the last decade, and reminiscing about our time together as teens.
The exchange student was across from me all night, constantly holding eye contact just a little too long. When we emerged from the bar, the sun was rising. We made our way to a döner shop where I discovered my wallet and passport were missing. I started to cry while eating the döner I couldn’t pay for. When I told my friends that I should call my boyfriend and let him know what happened, the exchange student sat beside me, put his arm around me and let me know he would figure it out.
After a quick sleep, we made our way to the first of two German police stations. The exchange student became my translator. As we navigated the German bureaucracy of making the police report, declaring my passport stolen and replacing my missing travel documents, the exchange student didn’t leave my side, doing things like grabbing me coffee, putting his arm around me and reassuring me it would be okay.
At the end of the weekend, Ashley and I needed to depart Berlin for Paris. The exchange student was able to arrange for me to get a temporary German ID card that allowed me to get on the airplane. He brought us to the airport and we parted ways.
The following year, my sister and I were planning a trip to Europe. Despite the passport problem, I loved Berlin and really wanted to share it with my sister. This trip had me leaving to Europe before my sister to visit some friends in Oslo, followed by a stop in Hamburg before meeting her in Berlin.
I let the exchange student know I was coming back to Germany and gave him the dates I would be in Berlin and Hamburg and asked if he wanted to meet up. He immediately agreed to spend the weekend with me in Hamburg.
Again, we made arrangements to meet, this time only him and I. I was five months out of my 11-year relationship, and very much looking forward to spending the weekend with my friend.
The exchange student and I didn’t discuss relationships beforehand, so it was a shock to me to learn that he had met someone recently and he was really into her. His girlfriend Katy enjoyed the same mountaineering hobby as him. He spoke of her with such confidence in their future it seemed like our cards were dealt from the start.
We spent the weekend touring Hamburg together, often sitting on a bench and talking for hours at a time. We ate döners, drank beers, and went on a river cruise. He paid for everything. I had a great time with my old friend that weekend.
On our last day, after we checked out of the hostel, the exchange student grabbed my backpack and put it on. As he escorted me to the train station, with my 30-pound bag on his back, I stepped behind him and took a photo to capture the moment.
Once we arrived to the train platform, he put my bag down and gave me a hug. We held onto each other for a few moments, before I sighed and pulled away. I looked into his eyes and smiled. We said goodbye.
For the last time.
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