October 4, 2013 marks the 10th anniversary of my first boyfriend dumping me. 🙂
Is that a weird thing to remember?
I dated ***** for almost three years. I was lucky to have him for the majority of my high school career. He was good for me, kept me out of trouble, and treated me well. He was also a year younger than me, and when I went off to college, it was obvious that we were going to be heading in different directions.
Maybe I remember the date b/c it’s the only time I’ve ever been truly dumped. Dumped in the sense that he came over to my house, sat me down, and told me the truth–that we weren’t going to work. I was getting wilder, and he was embarking on a journey to become a youth minister. I knew it was true, and I knew it was going to suck. I made a sappy CD mix and called it, “October 4, The Day of the Dying Heart” and I Sharpied all over it in red and orange and yellow. You know, to symbolize flames and all my burning adolescent (read: emo) feelings.
But it was a sad thing.
That night, a bunch of my friends took me out to a bonfire. I wore a baseball raglan and my jean jacket. They got me completely hammered (which I had never done when I was with *****).
I remember standing in a vast soybean field at one point with a boxer puppy. I had a bottle of beer in one hand and my camera in the other, and the sky was doing amazing things–turning all sorts of purple and pink and orange. And it lasted forever. That was the first time that I cried about the breakup, all looped up on booze and sadness.
There was a yellow and green flowered couch by the fire that night. I passed out on it and my dumbass friends decided to call my dad. About 20 minutes later, Dad, large and hulking, walked up to a fire pit surrounded by 10 underage drinkers. I sprang to life and threw myself at him, pretty excited to see him. My friends were all silent. Dad told me to get in the car.
He opened the back door to my Oldsmobile Cutlass (he’d brought it b/c it had vinyl seats–easier to clean up if I puked) and told me to leap in. I took it literally and jumped into the car. Someone else had opened the door on the other side and I slid right through. It was a proper ending to the night.
I think I needed it. But all turned out for the best.
***** is now married to a woman who seems lovely, and he has a baby girl who looks a lot like him. I will be married this month (@#()*#)($*)(*T)()#(*$)(@) to my darling Mike, who (regardless of how much I hated North Carolina and how much I sometimes wish I never went) I am so glad that I met on the sidewalk on that autumn day. 🙂