I met Foxtrot Charlie* fourteen years ago this past December, while he was home on leave for the holidays. Back then, he was an aid worker under the auspices of the UN, teaching people in Sudan how to fish and dig safe wells.

I was single at the time and thought we’d have little more than a holiday fling - but I fell in love and I fell hard. The feeling seemed to be mutual, but he was a “woman in every port” sort of guy who would be going back to Africa in January and so, even though I was in love, I wasn’t expecting much. In a journal entry dated December 15, 1993, I wrote, “If he does feel something approximately the same as I do, then why not grab the chance for some happiness while we have the opportunity? Isn’t it better to have loved and left the country, than never to have loved at all?”

Over the next three years he stayed with me when he was home from Africa. Each time he arrived my heart would soar and my love would deepen. Each time he left I wondered if I’d ever see him again; aid work in Africa can be a dangerous affair. If the malaria didn’t get him (I nursed him through several malarial fevers over the years), an armed-raid might. It was difficult to let him go but he was doing something he loved. I wasn’t about to stand in his way, no matter how much it hurt to see him go.

In early 1997, he came home from Africa for the last time. Shortly after, I became pregnant by him - accidentally - but lost it within six weeks. The pregnancy put an odd sort of strain on our relationship (even though neither one of us wanted another child, so losing it was a good thing) and we split up in May. Over the next two years we’d meet up and spend the night together now and then. My feelings never diminished. I knew even though we weren’t together as a couple, he’d never leave my heart.

I met someone else in the summer of 1999 and we embarked on a monogamous relationship. I locked Charlie away in a little corner of my heart/mind and got on with my life. In early 2001, Charlie tested HIV positive and I followed suit a few weeks later. The new man in my life tested negative and stuck by me.

Over the next six and a half years (out of eight years total) I avoided Charlie as best I could. The feelings that would well up each time I saw him felt like a betrayal of my new man, even though Charlie and I rarely ever spoke, much less touched. If I’d see him in the street, I’d duck into a shop. I didn’t go to places where he hung out. One time, by pure chance, we ended up flying to Liverpool together and sharing taxis to our clinic. The attraction between us was as strong as ever and I spent the next several weeks mooning over him, dreaming about him and listening to “our” songs. Locking him away again took every shred of respect I had for my new man - and then some.

Fast forward to my last blog entry; “A Brim Full of Ashes When You’re 45”. If you haven’t already guessed, Charlie is the “very dear ex” I cut out of my life. I ran into him a few weeks after the end of my long-term relationship and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t run the other way. We hadn’t talked in years and when I told him how good my numbers were without the meds, he picked me up and spun me around in the middle of the pub. “I though you had aids like me!” he said, with a smile on his face that lit up the whole room - just as it lit up every corner of my being. Even after all the years apart, the connection was still there and as strong as ever.

We’ve spent a lot of time together over the past five weeks and I’m happier than I’ve been in years. I love this man like I’ve never loved before - and I feel loved like I never have before. By anyone. His family and my friends - and my daughter - are all happy we’re back together. I don’t know quite where we’re headed yet but for now, I’m happy just being happy. Tomorrow can take care of itself; I’m living in the moment and enjoying every second of it.

Two month ago I felt as though my entire life had crashed and burned. I rose from the ashes into a fresh start with the love of my life and an exciting hope for a future of passionate love I never thought I’d experience again. I can’t wait to see what 2008 brings!

Wishing all my readers a happy, healthy and prosperous 2008.
Ann

*Foxtrot Charlie comes from the International Radio Operators Alphabet and was his call-sign when using radio communications in remote areas of Sudan.