30 Years Late, an Apology to Yvonne from Hurlford

Subject: 30 Years Late, an Apology to Yvonne from Hurlford
From: Greg from Kilmarnock
Date: 14 Aug 2022

Dear Yvonne,

It is my biggest hope that you will read this and understand the sincerity and depth of my regret and sorrow. Only now, thirty years later, do I understand the sheer selfishness and stupidity of my actions. It fills me with pain to think about what I did to you, yet I know that the anguish within me is nothing compared to the distress I surely caused you all those years ago.

It was late 1992 or early 1993. You I think were 27 years old and lived in Hurlford, somewhere off to the right of the Galston Road as you drive from Hurlford towards Galston.

I was a stupid young 20 year-old university student, from Kilmarnock, but studying in Glasgow, living there during the week and often coming back to Ayrshire to meet friends at the weekend.

It was late one Friday or Saturday evening when we met in Parker’s Lounge in Kilmarnock. What a pitifully mundane setting for such a wonderful encounter. My friends left the place early, but I bid them goodnight and stayed there longer because I was so entranced by you. Just utterly entranced by everything about you. I made my feelings quite clear as the hours grew later, and in spite of your initial resistance and scepticism I wore you down. I don't know how I managed it. I really felt you were out of my league. I know now that you were, in every respect. But eventually you agreed to dance with me, and then to leave at closing time with me instead of going home with your friends.

The Foregate wasn’t much of a place to get intimate. So I took you back to my room at my parent’s house where we were able to enjoy enough solitude to spend the night making love. You were a fantastic and wonderful lover Yvonne. The best and most beautiful I have ever had.

You went home in the very small hours by taxi. By that time I knew that you were married and that you had a young child. I also knew that you were a special and beautiful person, in every way, on the inside and the outside. So I wanted to see you again.
We met again two more times. I took you to my place in Glasgow where we enjoyed as much intimacy as a shared student flat could allow. But when we were alone in my room it turned into another magical night that I remember with deep, deep yearning.

Our last meeting was the start of my unforgiveable treatment of you. A pub or two in Kilmarnock and then a late night walk in the deserted, desolate Kay Park trying to find some intimacy under the cold moonlight. That was the last time I saw you. I regret that so deeply now. You deserved everything good in the world to come to you, and I know you surely had joy in your home life, but somehow fate led you into my cold and unfeeling hands.

All I have now are my memories of you. I remember everything about you from that first night we met. The clothes you wore. Your cute haircut, your delightful smile, and your beautiful eyes. The perfume you wore - even now just the memory of that intoxicates me. Your petite frame, your gentle touch and your perfect body. I remember your perfection perfectly.

When you left my house to go home that night, you left a pair of black gloves in my room. I kept them for many years as a precious keepsake...the sweet scent of your perfume lingered within them for a long time. But now I do not even have them to remember you by.

Yes, all I have are my memories of you. And my searing regrets. I do not know if it would have been good for us to continue seeing each other. But I do know that you wanted us to. You tried to contact me. I got the note you put through the letterbox of my parent’s house. I read it and it touched me, but I discarded it. I thought it was manly and cool of me to forget you, and to coldly make you forget me too. But I was nothing more than a worthless and pathetic coward then, just as I am now.

Wrong though it may be to desire something that would make you feel strange and uncomfortable at best, and probably a lot worse, I want so much to see you again. Even just to speak to you. I want to tell you with my own lips how sorry I am and how deeply wrong I was to treat you the way I did. But I could say sorry to you a million times and I do not think it would be enough to soothe the guilt and shame I feel about my cold-heartedness. And my biggest fear is that, as a person whom you have forgotten completely, my words and my guilt would mean nothing to you now anyway.

I remember you just the way you were during that brief time I shared with you before I threw it all away like an idiot. I can see you before me in every beautiful detail whenever I think of you, and I sometimes think of you at the most unexpected times. But I have nothing physical to connect me with you now. No contact details, no knowledge of where you live now. I don’t think I can even remember your surname correctly. What a worthless, useless, wretched waste of space I was to you.

Wherever you are Yvonne, I hope you have enjoyed a joyful, wonderful, and peaceful life. If it is so, then it is all the more so for not having had me as a part of it.

Yet still I hope you read this letter so that you can know and understand my true feelings as they now exist constantly in my heart. If fate should be so kind as to give me one more chance to meet or even just to contact you…somehow, somewhere, sometime…I would do everything in my power to redress all the harm I did you and turn it into something to make you know just how special you were and have always been to me.

I’m so sorry Yvonne.

Greg C.