My Sweet Elizabeth

This is a true story. A story of my love for the dearest lady I ever knew. A story of love lost, but still enduring.

I first laid eyes on Elizabeth on the morning I reported for work as chief engineer in her family's small ship repair yard. She was a good looking young lady, a daughter of my employers and head of staff at the family's small, harbor-side hotel, where I was given a room in staff quarters in the rear wing of the hotel and, though there were several rooms there, only Elizabeth and I used them. The remainder of the staff lived locally, and our rooms were next to each other, opening onto a hallway.

Most nights Elizabeth worked in the hotel bar and after a short while, as she got to know me, she would sometimes ask me for help when she got busy. I got quite used to bartending with Elizabeth and late on summer nights after we closed the bar, we often walked together along the shore path, toward the lighthouse outside the harbor, sat for a while and watched the stars. It was on the third such walk we first held hands and only very shortly thereafter we first kissed goodnight in the hallway before going to our separate rooms. From then on we were firm friends.

Elizabeth's real beauty was in her most gentle and respectful manner. Older people and strangers were always addressed formally, and even to the many rough and rowdy seamen, many of whom would much rather pick a fight than avoid one, and comprised a fair proportion of the bar customers, she accorded the same respect. For Elizabeth it was always returned in full measure.

We were in a small town, and before very long our friendship was noticed by the town people and by Elizabeth's family. We took our times off together and often drove to some of the neighboring villages, had a meal and drinks at their local bars, or we'd go to the beaches and watch the waves breaking on the sand. In good weather we would walk on the beaches or sometimes take one of the company boats to the local islands, to just sit together contentedly and companionably and watch the seal pups play.

Time went on, but before too long we acknowledged our love for each other, seeking to be together whenever possible and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. My office was in the hotel, so we worked together, ate together, played together and slept only a wall thickness apart.

As our love became more and more evident, we became a focus of interest in the town, whose people wished us only the best. They took great pleasure in our obvious love and loyalty to each other and, probably based on that, everybody loved and admired Elizabeth, I was offered a seat, which I did not accept, on the town Council.

During this time, the 'S' word did emerge and we talked about it, but Elizabeth was a virgin and told me that, though she loved me dearly and had no aversion to sex, she was not yet ready to take the step. While I often longed for the closeness and warmth of her body, my deep love for her made me pleased to wait.

On our evenings off, we would go to our favorite places, the beach, the lighthouse, or the islands, sit down and, always most tenderly, touch, kiss and love each other. It was a very wonderful time, marred only once, when Elizabeth's brother, during a drunken argument, accused me of being there only to have sex with his sister. This upset Elizabeth very much and she tearfully told her mother it was not true, that she had never experienced sex. Her mother hugged us both, comforted her and ever thereafter, a new and higher level of respect was shown us by her family, including even her brother.

We talked of marriage and even bought a plot of land to build a house. A war started brewing somewhere in the Far East and we had good reason to believe that I would be called to active duty as a reserve naval officer. Elizabeth told me that if this happened, she wanted us to be married before I had to leave. We did all the legal preparation, but the threat passed and our marriage was put on hold. Some time later, Elizabeth went for minor surgery to a city hospital and, when she was ready to be released, I went to meet her and drive her home. We spent two wonderful days and nights in the city, chastely occupying two hotel rooms while enjoying our time together.

On our way back home, we talked seriously of just going off right then to get married. The legal work had already been done, so all that remained was for us to take our vows. We stopped at a road junction, where we could either turn one way to go home, or take the other branch and quickly and quietly get married. For several reasons, all of which I've regretted to this day, we chose to go home.

Time went by; years in fact, and we continued to live and love, but then Elizabeth's father died. Her mother broke up the businesses and sold the pieces and I went to work for another company nearby. We continued to see each other but after a while, and I never quite knew why, we grew apart. We still met and still walked to the lighthouse, but less and less frequently as time went on and Elizabeth did not see anybody else while I was there. It was always a great joy for me to meet her and we were still the dearest of friends, but we no longer talked of marriage or of a future together.

It was very reluctantly that I started dating again and eventually met the lady who would become my wife. She was a good woman, but looking back, I think I probably married her to achieve some closure in my mind from the woman I really loved. We got married in the same small town and both Elizabeth and her mother were guests. Late in the evening, shortly before the festivities came to a close, Elizabeth and I danced a waltz together and, as we did, the other guests quietly left the floor, leaving us to dance alone. The music stopped, and there witnessed by her mother and our many dear friends, we kissed lightly and tenderly and said goodbye. My new bride saw, and understood. I never saw Elizabeth again.

Very soon after, during a quiet time, my wife asked me about my feelings for Elizabeth. I told her, "You and I are now man and wife and properly so, but I will never forget Elizabeth and don't ever expect me to." She accepted that.

We immediately moved away from the town to another place, and several months later I received a phone call from Elizabeth's older sister, Jennifer, who lived two hours drive away. She said, "Elizabeth is here visiting, why don't you come over on Sunday and join us?" I told her I would and she then said, "You know, she still loves you." At that point, I very nearly cried; that was the last thing I needed to hear. On the Saturday night, it snowed heavily, making my visit impossible. I called Jennifer and expressed my regrets.

I lost contact with Jennifer and more years passed, but fairly recently I was told by an old friend where she now lives. We re-gained contact and are in frequent correspondence. We Email each other often, but it took me several weeks to find the courage to ask her about Elizabeth. I told her that, even after all these years, Elizabeth still holds a very special, very private place in my heart and always will; that she is still the dearest friend I ever had.

Jennifer very kindly told me that Elizabeth is married to a good man who treats her well and they have lived happily for several years in England's Lake District. I have no idea whether she told Elizabeth of our correspondence and I'm really not sure whether I should ask.

I am still very much in love with Elizabeth and I always have been. Love such as I feel for her is very rare and I cherish it and the dear, sweet memories with which I live. They will be with me always, and they will never be surpassed.

We are both much older now, Elizabeth still comes to me in dreams, and when I wake, my heart aches. I see her always as young; as we both once were. Sometimes the dreams are flitting glimpses, but at other times we are together, sitting at the lighthouse watching the stars, or at the beach. In other dreams, we sit quietly together among the islands, saying nothing, and watch the seal pups play.

My dearest wish is to meet my sweet Elizabeth just once more; just to see her, talk with her, walk with her and, if only for a few moments, hold her hands. Yet, when I think that one day it may be possible, I grow afraid.