Names changed to protect the innocent.
In 1996 I met Lucie. She was a few months older than me and crazy and had awesome taste in music and worked and the same movie theatre as my friend Will did. We all mutually hung out a few times, and she and I went on a coffee “date” that summer, but I was still hung up on the Canadian girl at that point, but that’s another story for another time. So she decided to move on and I was fine with that until I found out that my horndog friend A. was pursuing her, in which case something rose inside me and I was all like, “FUCK THAT! She’s MINE!” And that, funnily enough, was the start of one of something wonderful. More or less. For about a year. She taught me a lot of things about myself, and I’ll never forget her for that.
Or for what came after we broke up.
Almost exactly a year later, after a few failed attempts at reconciliation, we called it quits for good. Now, I had just recently moved in with her cousin as a sort of stop gap measure btwn. living w/ my folks and living w/ her, but he and I were buddies, so we saw no reason to alter the arrangement. Of course, THEY were still buddies, too, so she was around. A LOT. They’d go out on thursday nights to this goth/industrial club and come home in the wee small hours. She meets some dude whose name would sound like a pseudonym even if I put it down here, but I’m not gonna do that. Oh, and then she throws a party to introduce him to all of her friends, including me. And she had done the same thing when we started dating. It should also be noted that I had NOT handled the break up very well* and was drinking HEAVILY to counteract the bad vibes. I had a number of enablers in this endeavour, so I didn’t really see anything wrong with it.
And then one thursday night, my roomie doesn’t go out to the club, but the ex calls and asks to speak w/ him. Being the concerned kind of guy I am, I ask if I can help and/or take a message. She insists that it’s important and that I get him. So I knock on his door. And he picks up the phone. Now, right about here is where the wise man hangs up the phone and goes to bed. But instead, I just put the phone on mute and eavesdrop. A betrayal of trust, I know, but something was up.
Lucie:”J., what I’m about to tell you…you have to keep VERY close to your chest.”
J.:”Ok, what’s up?”
Lucie:”X. asked me to marry him. I said yes.”
And I SLAM the phone down. And then I get up. And then I go to the kitchen and slam 3 beers. And then I drive around. Dumb, dumb, dumb boy.
It tore me up for a good long time. Eventually she and I made peace, and I even grew to like him. And as it happens she wound up marrying the dude AFTER him, so it was all no big deal.
However, since 1997, I haven’t had a relationship that’s lasted more than 4 months. And after every breakup, it feels like something like this could happen again. In some cases, similar things have. Though never that serious.
I really have to stress that this wasn’t motivated by anything going on currently, but I thought if I put it out in the cosmos, I could take away from its power. So there you go.
Take care, be good.
*the same week we broke up, I lost my job and found out my mom had cancer. SUCK!