In My Dreams, Romance is a Dark and Stormy Night

Love stories are universal. It seems, however, that there are some cultural differences. In conversations I have had with many of my Asian friends, as well as what little I know of Chinese love stories in literature and movies, it would seem that most traditional Chinese love stories are sad, and tragic tales. In other words, there aren't a lot of happy endings. And yes, there are American love stories that don't end well. Look at the movie, Love Story, for instance. But in general, we Americans really do prefer a love story with a wonderfully happy ending. In real life, however, I don't think this happens very often. But I do hope it happens more often than my experience would suggest.
When I was young, well, much younger than I am now, I had a close relationship with a young woman of my own age. We had a very close connection. One that ran deep. And one that at that time I not only didn't fully understand, but I also did not fully appreciate. Being young and very foolish, after a few years had passed, I grew fearful, and broke it off. I'm not sure even now of exactly what I was afraid of, although part of it was not feeling worthy of the love of this beautiful soul, and possibly being a little intimidated by her love. She was a wiser person than I in many ways, particularly I think, in the true meaning of love. And so, in a somewhat typical male response to the fear of being trapped, I ran off. And I have regretted it ever since.
I did try to contact her a couple of times in the next couple of years, and I did manage to talk to her briefly once. But I had caused her too much pain, and she did not want to see or talk to me. Many years later, I convinced my brother Jeff, who had mastered the internet long before I even owned a computer, to try find her for me. Using his internet tracking sources, he claimed she had been married, had two children, divorced, and moved to Canada, where the trail went cold (he couldn't track her any further). Jeff, however, had thought it was a really bad idea to try to hunt her down after such a long time. I always suspected he had simply made up everything he told me in order to satisfy my need to try to find her. It would have been his way of trying to protect me from what he believed could only end badly. 
During the course of my conscious day to day life, I do not think of my lost young lover of long ago very often. But my subconscious never lets me forget her for very long. Over the course of these many years, from time to time, I will have a quite haunting, and by now somewhat familiar, dream about her. In the dream, I am either talking to her in person, or on the phone. Or, I am talking to someone else in an attempt to find out where she is. In last night's dream, I was talking to my cousin Jim (who actually, at this moment, is somewhere out West). In any case, in all the dreams, whether I am supposed to meet her later, or just trying to find the address of where I have been told she is, I can not get there, and it becomes a desperate hunt. And of course, I have no way to get in touch with her. That is always how the dream ends. I cannot describe the feeling of utter melancholy that envelopes me, upon awaking. 
So, I find that a part of my life has become a tragic love story. And I will always wonder, what would have been, if I had not let fear drive me off. I will never know...