Tag Archives: best friends

7 days

16 Nov

It took me 7 days to fall in love with my husband.

I think that is as realistic as ‘love at first sight’ is going to get. And to be honest, it was hardly the first time I had seen him. It wasn’t even the first time that I had talked to him or hung out with him. So I guess ‘love at first sight’ doesn’t really, actually apply here. And I believe that ‘love at first sight’ is pretty illogical anyway so I’m sorry I even brought it up.

Burny and I actually met in high school. I get asked that question all the time; ‘Where did you guys meet?’ When I say ‘high school’, people look surprised. And that surprises me. I heard a statistic once that most people already know the person they are going to marry by age 20. I heard that statistic when I was about 22 and I thought they were crazy. I just could not imagine marrying the guy I was dating when I was 22 and naturally when someone says that you already know the person you are going to marry, you assume it’s going to be the person you’re dating at that time. Well, I know I did. I don’t want to say I always assumed I would marry who I was dating, but I did often wonder if I would wind up with whoever the guy of the moment was at that particular moment. So when this person told me this statistic, I really hopped that they were wrong.

But guess what…

I do actually remember the first time I met my husband, and it’s kind of a funny story. I was dating LemonBass at the time, my high school sweetheart, and LB and I were sitting in the dark in the living room of his mother’s house and we were watching a scary movie. We had been dating for some time by that point so there was certainly no hanky panky going on. We were actually just watching the movie.

Que Burny’s entrance into my life.

Burny marched into the dark room, gave a rather strange look around, and curled up under a blanket on the other couch. Lemon and I looked at him expectantly, but he didn’t seem too concerned with giving us an explanation as to who he was or what he was doing, so we just went back to watching the movie in silence.

Come to find out later, that weird kid was one of Lemon’s brother’s friends who had been forced to smoke too much weed in the back yard.

Who could have ever guessed that so many years later I would have walked down the aisle towards that same kid? Certainly not me.

Burny was a year behind me in high school and he didn’t show up on the scene until my senior year, so our time in school together was limited. We weren’t what you would call friends, although I certainly thought very highly of him… once I got past the whole stoner thing. You could say that we knew OF each other. We had mutual friends. His best guy friends were my best guy friends, but I actually only have a few memories that include him.

One of which takes place at my high school graduation. A few weeks into our relationship, Burny and I just so happened to walk in on my sister and Mom watching home videos. The video that was up on the tv was of my graduation party. I was filming and I was scanning the back yard, commenting on all my crazy friends that were jumping around in the pool and all of a sudden… there was Burny. Right smack dab in the middle of a water fight with my step brother. I would never have remembered that he had come to my graduation party. Surely he was there not for me, but for our mutual friends who were also graduating that day. But seeing him on the video tape did bring back a very interesting memory…

Burny made out with my cousin that night. I remember my sister telling me all about it in the morning. I don’t think he will ever live that down. Life is really funny sometimes.

2 years later, after I had moved down to San Diego for college and had ended my relationship with LemonBass, I was home for Spring Break and a very close friend of both Burny and mine invited me out to see a band play. The band was called ‘Burn TACtics and the Loco Focos’. Maybe you’ve heard of it? 😉 Burny was the leading man of course, but I was mainly there in support of our mutual friends- aka the other band members.

But I have to tell you… I took notice of Burny for the first time that day. I leaned over to KayTown, who just so happened to be there with me and I told her that I was getting a major crush on the lead singer. What I was really saying to her was: Years from now, you are going to be a bridesmaid in our wedding. How strange.

After the show, I told their manager and close friend that if Burny ever broke up with his girlfriend- whom I knew he had been dating for years and definitely expected him to marry- he should give me a call! My friend told me that I had no chance. Apparently he expected Burny to stay with his girlfriend too. Little did he know that he too would be toasting at our wedding only a few short years later.

The next memory I have of Burny before I started my decent into love, happens to be a mere 6 months before our fated re-connection.

I was home for Christmas- home from San Diego that is- and  it was the night of my families annual Christmas party. If you have ever been to said Christmas party, you know that it is an epic time. Each year manages to trump the previous year and it’s greatly looked forward to by those who attend regularly. Needless to say, there is a lot of alcohol assumption going on. And this particular Christmas party was no exception.

Now, to be honest, my memory of this night varies somewhat drastically from Burny’s so let me just give you a quick run down of both.

My version goes like this:

I called one of Burny and my closest friends, PCharm. PCharm and I go WAY back. I have to say, PCharm is one of my oldest friends. I met him when I had just turned 5 years old and I’m proud to say that he was in our wedding. (That’s the cool thing about small towns). I also have to say that at this time, PCharm and I were somewhat… complicated. (That’s the weird thing about small towns). So when I called him to leave a message, I never would have expected that Burny would be the one to call me back. But alas, he did.

I remember having a brief conversation with Burny which went as follows:

Me: Come on over if you want, we are still partying.

Burny: Okay. We will try to stop by.

Granted, I do remember being a little bit excited that Burny was calling me. As I mentioned, I had always thought very highly of him. I knew he was an amazing guy. To this day, I’ve never heard anyone say a bad thing about him and at the time, he and I had never really had a very direct conversation so I was a bit flustered. And I will also admit that I had been drinking and that I am naturally a flirt. But I am pretty sure Burny is exaggerating in his version, which goes something like this:

Burny: Hey there… Is the party still going on?

Me: Yes. You should come over here and have sex with me.

That hardly sounds like me!!

Burny didn’t make it to the party that night. I wonder how my  life would be different now if he would have. What would be different between us? Would we still be together? Would we have ever started dating at all? Clearly,  it wasn’t our time quite yet…

That Christmas was the last Christmas I called San Diego my home. I moved back to Northern California the following June. I think I always knew that I was not going to spend my life in San Diego, however, it ripped my heart out to leave. When I graduated college, the plan was for me to move back home with my mom. But then I met Sinkin’ Ship and my plans changed. After my going away party, I changed my  mind and I stayed in San Diego.

After Sinkin’ Ship and I broke up for the last time, I put my tail between my legs and decided that the time had come at last for me to leave the beautiful San Diego weather. After my second going away party, MacTen convinced me that my place was still in SoCal. I moved into her dinning room and stayed. I just couldn’t make myself leave. It wasn’t time… Fate was working it’s magic.

Burny and I talk all the time about how timing has EVERYTHING to do with us getting together. If I would have moved home either of those first two times, we probably wouldn’t have reconnected. And if I had decided to stay in San Diego any longer than I had… he would have gone into the military and I would have probably never spoken to him.

But alas…

The third time I decided to move home from San Diego came along side my third trip to Europe. I had been toying with the idea that perhaps it was time for me to just bite the bullet and go home to pay off some debt before returning to San Diego of course. When I bought my third round trip plane ticket to Europe on a charge card I decided that that trip was going to be my last irresponsible action. I went to Europe in April and moved home in June. They say the third times a charm… but I wasn’t so sure. By the time I had my third going away party, my friends were kind of wondering if maybe I just had a drinking problem and needed an excuse to throw parties. I had cried wolf so many times that no one believed I would actually go… but I drove a uhaul up the state of California for the last time that year.

It was a Tuesday.

I had been home in Northen California all of one day. I was unpacked. I was miserable.

The ONLY thing that I was looking forward to was Friday. Why?

About a month before moving home, fate made another appearance in the way of facebook. Guess who popped up in the ‘people you may know’ section?

Burn TACtics.

Apparently my sister had recently befriended him and so facebook decided that perhaps I would also enjoy being his friend as well. Of course facebook knows all! When I went to click on his picture, an amazing thing happened… I noticed that his picture wasn’t a picture at all. It was an album cover! And I wasn’t excited because he had made it to the big time… I was excited because the album was entitled: Goodbye Emily Jane.

Goodbye Emily Jane????

That could only mean one thing! He was single! Everyone knew that his high school sweetheart and all around perfect girlfriend was named Emily Jane. Now was my chance!!

And PS… clearly, up until this moment I thought that he was still in a relationship and so I would never in a million years have been so flirtatious and forward the previous Christmas, knowing full well that he was off the market. But that’s neither here nor there.

I made my move.

I messaged him.

I told him that I was moving home and that we should hang out sometime. I made up some sob story about not having any friends back home and so he should feel sorry for me. I, of course, suggested we hang out the first Saturday that I would be home- many of my friends had agreed to go out that night already- but he had a wedding to go to that night. So, like the gentleman that he is, he suggested an alternative night. He suggested we go get a drink on Friday, the night before the wedding.

Perfect.

So as I said, the only thing that kept me from moving straight back down to San Diego that first week, was my ‘kind of’ date on Friday night with my future husband.

And I mean that 100%. Fate is a tricky thing. I really believe that if it weren’t for something potentially exciting in Woodland-aka a boy- I would have packed my car right back up and moved right back down to SoCal.

When Friday came around, I took the chicken way out and I decided to text message Burny. I have never been much of a phone person and I feel like texting just seems more casual. So I text him to see if we were still on for that night.

He called me right back. Like… RIGHT back.

And of course I didn’t answer. I was totally freaking out. I just sat there and watched the phone ring, thinking of some dumb excuse as to why I hadn’t been able to answer the phone that had clearly just been in my hand about 1/2 second before.

After laying by the pool with my newly re-established, oldest friend, Lark- I called Burny back and told him that I had jumped in the shower and had missed his call. LIES! He confirmed our plans, we set a time and a place, and now all there was left to do was wait.

I talked Lark into coming with me on my casual meet up as my wing man. She had just gotten married not even a month before that and we joked that maybe Burny and I would end up hitting it off and getting married ourselves. Life is just really really funny.

Burny and I met up later that night at a little place called Morrison’s. We exchanged hugs like we were old friends, but really, we weren’t. We weren’t friends meeting up to talk about old times… but since we had both brought along friends, we weren’t exactly on a date either… the boundaries were fuzzy right from the get go.

But I remember having a really great time that night. We talked about break ups and high school friends. We talked about San Diego and Europe. We basically just talked for the first time in any sort of real way. And I really liked him. I knew that right away. However, being that I was such a recent transplant from San Diego, I was still so used to the ‘straight to sex’ type of bar conversation. So I wasn’t sure if Burny was even interested in me in that way at all. He was being respectful and friendly and sweet… which were three completely foreign concepts to me at the time. Unfortunately, I had truly begun to associate my self worth with whether or not I thought the guy that I was talking to wanted to sleep with me. I’m glad I got out of San Diego when I did… imagine the giant mess I would have become if I would have stayed.

Either way, after the bar, Burny and I headed over to a friend’s house to continue chatting. We hadn’t had much to drink at the bar- which again, was a new idea for me- and so when we left for our second location, we both felt perfectly safe and ready to leave our wingmen behind.

That night, I am sad to say, Burny and I paid homage to our very first meeting all those years before. Burny and I smoked weed together. Gross, I know. Trust me, I hate that about our first date… but I guess it all happened for a reason. Because up until I smoked, I knew I was really winning Burny over with my charm. After I was high, all I could think about was how dumb I was acting. Needless to say, if we hadn’t have gotten high together that first night, we wouldn’t have addressed the fact that neither of us wanted to smoke weed ever again. And quite frankly, if we hadn’t have had that conversation, we probably would have broken up. I knew that he had smoked a lot in the past, and I also knew that I wasn’t ready to be dating a stoner… and so the conversation presented itself very early on, which looking back… was a blessing.

So anyway… we hung out until 4:30 am that first night. We didn’t kiss. We just talked. But I walked away a little more committed to staying in Woodland than I would have liked.

That was day one. We made plans to go on a hike the following Monday.

Day two: Saturday.

Burny had a wedding to go to. He had invited me to come with him as his date, but I had already made plans with the rest of my friends to go out on the town in honor of my return. But I knew it was already too late for me; I would have much rather have gone to that wedding with Burny than anywhere else with my friends. But alas, it was not meant to happen that way.

Before the wedding, Burny called me just to say hello. I thought that was very sweet and I appreciated that he wasn’t a game player and didn’t think that he had to wait any certain amount of time to call me because guys,… girls hate it when you do that! But even still… despite the great night, the invite to the wedding, and the phone call… I wasn’t so sure that Burny was interested in anything more than friendship.

That night out at the bars, I found myself in somewhat of a predicament: I had been left behind by my friends. I have to say, it’s not the first time that it’s happened to me, but it is the first time that I literally had no one to come and rescue me. I tried to call Burny, which is a HUGE sign that I was already in too deep with him, but he text me to say that he was drunk and was unable to drive.

I figured it out, don’t worry readers… I always do. I found my way safely back home without making TOO many bad decisions.

But anyway, the next morning when I woke up, I already had a voice message from Burny. He was checking on me to make sure that I had found my way home safely. I decided that I was not going to be afraid of the phone, and I gave him a call back instead of texting. You should be proud of me!

I asked him if he would like to come over to go swimming. He agreed. We both invited friends over and we made a day of it. Again, I found myself a little concerned that I was breaking all of my rules and I was going to get myself attached… but I figured that I had had my heart broken before and I could probably stand to have it broken again if he just wanted to be friends in the end. What the hell!

But just for good measure, when I hung up the phone, I looked at my Mother and asked her:

‘Are you ready to meet your future son-in-law?’

It’s frightening, I know.

Burny stayed for dinner that night. Non-date number 2 and he was already meeting the folks. I’ll never forget sitting across the table from him as he talked with my mom and step dad. My mom kept shooting me these looks like she was trying to say: Don’t screw this one up! It goes without saying that I had never brought home anyone even remotely close to Burny. He was just in a class all by himself. I mean, I wasn’t worried about him meeting my parents. I knew he would impress them. But I found myself even more impressed by him because of how actually IMPRESSIVE he was. And to be honest, it was really starting to freak me the hell out…

What if he really did just want to be friends? For some reason, I just could not get that out of my head. But I had no choice but to continue to fall for him. There was no turning back.

After dinner, Burny and I got back in the hot tub. He sat on one side and I sat on the other side and we talked. No hanky panky. We just talked about everything. I can’t even remember it all, but we just couldn’t seem to be silent. There was too much to know.

After the spa, we laid in our wet clothes on the floor of my mother’s living room.  We were both wrapped in towels, our heads propped up on pillows, and we talked some more. Burny kept telling me that I had these ‘looks’ as he called them. He told me he was trying to learn them all. And each time he noticed a new ‘look’ he would point it out to me. He told me I was beautiful. He told me that I had the face to be in movies, which by that point he knew was my dream. But he didn’t kiss me. He didn’t even touch me.

When he left, it was 4:30 in the morning again. We hugged goodbye.

That was day three.

Day four: Monday. Our hike!

Remember? On Friday night we had planned to meet up Monday and go on a hike. We hadn’t planned to see each other on Sunday and so now that we had, Monday definitely felt more like a date than I think either of us had really intended it to be. It was the first time that we would actually be alone from start to finish, on purpose. I was pretty confident that if we were going to cross over into the dating category, we would need to have our first kiss on this, our third non-date.

He came over to pick me up around 10am, only 5 1/2 hours after he had left my house. We hugged good morning, but there was no kiss. We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and hopped in the car. He knew where we were headed. He had a plan… I could only hope his plan included him busting a move. I’ve never been one for sober move busting and since I knew we had not packed any BudLight… it was going to be all up to him.

We had discussed hiking at length on Friday. He asked me what I was most looking forward to doing now that I was back home and my answer was hiking and camping. It’s true that I love the outdoors, but it’s also true that I’m a girl and I need to take things slow. When we agreed to hike on Monday, we also agreed to hike something mild and relatively easy. I hadn’t been doing much hiking down in San Diego.

He said he knew just the place.

It didn’t take me long to realize that his ‘mild and relatively easy’ was a LOT different than mine. OH MY GOD! I thought I was going to die. It didn’t help that the temperature was a ripe 109 degrees, or that the trail he had planned for us to take was now under water. He hadn’t accounted for the snow melt.

So as he tried to figure out a way for us to get to this magical location that he said we could hike to, have lunch, and return from all within about two hours… I did my very best to keep my mouth shut. I had said that I was an outdoorsy girl and I knew for a FACT that he was a very outdoorsy guy and so the last thing I wanted to do was complain. As a matter of fact, the last thing I wanted to do was talk… I was so out of breath from the incline of the trail that I knew if I were to talk, my breathing would have given me away as a rookie in no time! I was so embarrassed.

About 30 minutes into the hike, we found ourselves hiking along what I can only describe as a cliff side. We were walking along the cliff parallel to the steam below us. The ground was like quick sand. Every step I took filled my tennis shoes with dirt, and sent me sliding just a little bit further down the cliff face. I was grabbing on to bushes and trees and dirt and logs… whatever would keep me from sliding down the hill and/or falling on my ass. I had so many splinters in my hands and my shoes were so full of rocks that I thought I would never get through the day without crying. But Burny was moving so quickly that it was all I could do to keep up.

We weren’t talking to each other and I wasn’t quite sure why that was. I knew that I was too out of breath and too pissed to talk, but I wasn’t sure why he was so quiet. I figured he was either annoyed at my slow pace or best case scenario, out of breath himself. I never dreamed that he was actually thinking the exact same thing I was:

‘If we don’t quit soon… I’m never going on another date with this person again.’

I of course meant that I would rather not date this amazing guy if it meant that I would have to be subjected to this on a regular basis.

And of course he knew that if he didn’t abort mission, and abort it quick… I was never going to agree to see him again.

So true.

Alas, as we approached the 1 hour mark, Burny turned to me and said:

“This is not going as planned. Do you want to just go back to your house and get in the pool?”

Sweeter words I had never heard.

Relationship saved.

As we headed back to the car, the flood gates opened. We both started complaining and laughing openly about our disastrous first hike. He agreed that he was just miserable and he commended me on making it so far without saying a word. I promised him that it had not been easy.

As it turned out, during the entire hour hike, we hadn’t made it more than 100 yards away from the car.

And furthermore… about 6 months later, we attempted the same hike again. It took us 2 hours to hike in, we spent the night where Burny had intended for us to just have lunch, and then we hiked back out the following morning.

I have no idea what he was thinking.

Back at my house that afternoon, Burny and I picked up on our conversation where we had left off the days before. It felt like we just had so much to say to each other. We just couldn’t know enough or share enough. I was just hungry for information. I wanted to know everything about him. I couldn’t get enough of it. And it seemed like he felt the same way, although we maintained our pattern of no kissing, no touching, no sitting next to each other… just talking. Just words. But there was something there… or so I thought. I hoped.

It was on that day that I realized that I wanted to marry him.

I had already decided that I wanted to date him; be his girlfriend. Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I want that? He was perfect to me. He was attractive, he was kind, he was a gentleman, he was well spoken and intelligent, he was interesting and interested, he was real. He was honest. And I wanted him to be mine. But it was in that pool on that Monday that I realized I wanted him to be my husband.

I asked him what the most important thing in the world was to him.

His answer?

Becoming a father.

I just knew. I knew in that moment that he wasn’t like anyone else I had ever met, let alone dated. He was different. He was so different. And I knew that if he would have me, I was going to marry him.

They say ‘when you know, you know.’

Day five.

Tuesday.

I didn’t have a job yet. I had just moved home the week before and although I was supposed to be job searching, my new infatuation was completely interfering with the rest of my life. I basically lived to talk with Burny. And Tuesday I woke up in a little bit of a panic…

Tuesday was the first day that I didn’t already have plans with Burny!

Friday was the drinks, Saturday he had the wedding, Sunday I had a reason to call him first thing, Monday the hike… and then TUESDAY! Crap! Nothing. No reason to call, no plans to see each other. It was torture, I assure you.

When we first starting going on our non-dates, Burny was working for his dad which meant that his schedule pretty much worked around what he had going on. However, because he had taken Monday off entirely for our horrendous hike, I knew that he was going to have to put in some extra time on Tuesday to catch up. So I came to the very difficult decision that I was going to just have to wait until he called me.

Although I was completely worried that Burny only thought of me as a friend, I was pretty sure that he was going to call. If nothing else, I was very confident that he at least enjoyed spending time with me. If we weren’t going to end up in a relationship, surely I was going to be the best friend that everyone knew was really in love with him.

Burny didn’t call until nearly 5 o’clock, which in hindsight, was a perfectly normal time to call. He said he had just finished work and that his family was expecting a family friend for dinner. My heart dropped. Did that mean…

“I won’t be able to do anything tonight, but we should meet up tomorrow.”

Devastated.

I have to be honest, I was truly heart-broken that I wouldn’t be able to see him. I mean, it was only going to be one night but I felt like it might as well have been a year. Burny had already become my addiction and now he was just asking me to quit cold turkey. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with myself.

Up until our first night out for drinks, only five days previous, all I had been doing was thinking about San Diego and how stupid I had been to move home. Now, after Burny, all I could think about was him. I had been in deep water before, but never quite like that.

I called my sister that night and I told her that I THOUGHT I was dating Burn TACtics. She knew who he was, of course, from high school and she was more than pleased, although she did find it hysterical that I managed to get myself anchored to Woodland in less than a week. It was no secret that my previous string of boyfriends had been less than tolerable. Burny was a giant LEAP in the right direction. I could tell that she was excited for me, but I just couldn’t seem to convey to her just how excited I was!

I told her all about our non-dates and how badly the hike had gone. And then I told her:

“If he likes me… I’m going to marry him.”

I could hear the smile in her voice, but I don’t think she realized how completely serious I was. I knew that if he and I ended up together, I would be off the market for good. But I just couldn’t seem to figure out whether or not he really liked me… or just liked being around me.

I analyzed the situation with LoDown over the phone as well that night. She was scheduled to come up for a visit that Thursday- only a few days away- and so I was hoping that I could introduce him to her and she could help me shed some light on the situation. She said she was pretty convinced, based on the evidence thus far, that he did actually really like me, but I just wasn’t ready to come to that conclusion.

It just felt like that would be too good to be true. People like Burny didn’t like people like me. I wasn’t lucky like that…

By the time Wednesday night came around, I was chomping at the bit to see Burny.

It was the sixth day.

He came right over after work and we sat on the couch upstairs and talked for 8 hours straight. We came down for dinner of course, and enjoyed another lovely meal with my family, but we returned to the upstairs couch to continue our riveting conversation. Like I said, I cant’ remember all the juicy details about what we found to talk about for all of those hours in those first six days, but I do remember that on that Wednesday he told me that he had missed me the day before. One day apart and he missed me. I was sure that was a good sign, but we were still sitting on opposite sides of the couches, with our feet touching in the middle. If he did like me so much… where were all the moves? If someone didn’t do something quick… we were going to turn into Mormons right there on the spot. Poof!

There was one other fairly major sign that night, that he really did like me in that way…

As we were chatting on the couch, I mentioned that my good friend LoDown was going to be coming to town the following day. I told him that we should all go out and that I was very excited for him to meet her and vice versa.

And would you believe it… in all that talking, Burny had failed to even mention to me the fact that Thursday morning he was scheduled to go down to Irvine with his family to watch his sister graduate college. All those hours of talking and the topic of ‘what are you up to this weekend?’ never made its way into the conversation.

I was shocked and completely bummed! I was so excited at the thought of one of my closest friends from San Diego, mixing in with my new reason for staying in Woodland. Not to mention, I desperately needed her to tell me that he liked me for real.

How was that going to happen if Burny wasn’t even going to be around? TERRIBLE!!

I guess my disappointment was pretty obvious because Burny took quick action. He made a quick call to his dad, jumped on the internet and BOUGHT A PLANE TICKET for Friday morning to fly down and meet his family in Irvine. Just like that. He actually purchased a $150 plane ticket just so that he could stay in Woodland an extra night to meet my friend.

I mean, I was pretty convinced by this point… but I just couldn’t be sure if he was really into me. I didn’t want to assume. You know what they say about assuming!! And besides, this grand gesture could still be interpreted as him just really liking to be around me. I mean, come on, I’m a good time.

But after all, we did make it the rest of the night (until 4am again) without even a goodbye kiss.

It was getting pretty ridiculous. I had already begun planning our wedding day and he hadn’t even reached for my hand under a blanket. And now, looking back, I think that the speed that our relationship picked up once we actually realized we were in one, directly correlates to how slowly I felt that we moved at the very beginning.

Day seven…

Three years and five months ago to this day (I started this blog on the 15th)…

LoDown came up for her visit. I quickly explained to her that Burny had purchased a plane ticket so that he could stay in town an extra night to hang out with us. She nearly smacked me in the head. LD felt that it was becoming painfully obvious that he liked me, but again, I just couldn’t be sure.

So that afternoon, while LD and I were out and about, we stopped by his house to say hello. He was very friendly towards LD, making an amazing first impression, and because he just so happened to be playing guitar when we stopped by… I got to hear him play for the very first time that day.

Well… that’s not entirely true. I had heard him play live that one time so many years ago… and I had heard all three of his albums… but I had never heard him play just for me.

He played ‘Long Goodbyes.’ If you are a fan and know the song, you know that it has a lot of cuss words in it and it goes so quickly that you have to struggle to make out the words and in a nut shell, it’s about ‘assholes and whores.’

To this day I have no idea why he chose that as his first song for me to hear him play…

He was very nervous, which I took as a sign that he really cared about what I thought. But of course it could have been because LD was there too. I didn’t want to get cocky. He didn’t look at me the entire time he played. But I was looking at him…

LD and I left and went about our business for the rest of the day. We gathered up a group of people and decided to make our little night out, a big deal. As LD and I were getting ready to go pick up Burny, I told her that I was going to get a little liquid courage under my belt and I was going to make a move! The time had come. I had stacked up enough evidence to convince myself that he wouldn’t turn away if I went in for the kiss and so I decided that tonight was the night! I was going to make this non-dating thing… a real thing.

And so we went out. To Morrison’s. It had been almost one full week and we were returning to the scene of the crime. I figured that this would be the perfect time to make my move. It almost felt serendipitous. Like we had come full circle or something romantic like that. But of course… I just couldn’t get enough beer in me fast enough.

We had a great time…

San Diego meets THOMAS!

But I just couldn’t work up the nerve…

So we headed to the next bar…Getting serious in the backseat

Kenny’s! Lucky for me, Kenny’s had BudLight too!!

And Karaoke:

Random old men love them some Wendy

So with a little bit more of that liquid courage running through my body, I asked Burny to marry me.

I kid you not. I used those exact words. I asked him to marry me.

I was flirting of course, but I think he could see the seriousness in my eyes because he laughed at me. He laughed!

I asked him again and he said no. He just flat out denied me. I was crushed.

He makes me laugh, what can I say?

I couldn’t believe he said no. I mean… at least flirt back and say yes. But no… he just wasn’t that into me. But he did reach for my hand and then before I knew what was happening to me, he had pulled me onto the dance floor. Yes… at Kenny’s. Where there is no dance floor.

Kenny's

I was obviously embarrassed, one. Crushed that he had not accepted my proposal, two. And three… too drunk to dance.

We left shortly there after and headed home. The night just wasn’t quite working out how I had planned.

Burny got LD and I a cab home, but I told him that he should probably just come back to my house with us. I had promised him a ride to the air port in the morning and so I figured that we could at least salvage the night by having one of our all night chats. If he didn’t want to marry me, I was still totally open to the ‘friend’ category in hopes that I could eventually sway him in my direction over time.

He agreed to come back to my place.

Now let me please point out to those of you who think you know where this story is headed… WE HAVE NOT EVEN KISSED YET, he has turned down my proposal, and the fact that he is at my house late into the night has not exactly been unfounded before this point! Keep your minds out of the gutter!

So while we are in the cab… LD and I in the backseat and Burny in the front…

Cab ride...

I decide that I am going to text message Burny… even though he is literally two feet away from me…

Hey… I was feeling a little disheartened after the denial earlier and although I was not completely ready to give up, I was still feeling shy.

I text him:

I have a crush on you.

I heard his phone go off. I saw him pull it out of his pocket, look at it, and put it away again.

He didn’t look over the seat and give me a look. He didn’t text me back. Nothing.

Strike two!

When we got home, the three of us sat on the floor of my kitchen and ate the taco bell that we had paid the cab driver to take us to go get. After taco bell, I stormed up to my room in protest. LD and Burny followed, and they both crawled in bed with me.

Please people!! This is not going where it seems to be going! This is the first time that Burny had even seen the inside of my room!!!  It was perfectly innocent.

So I was laying in the middle of my great friend LD and the future love of my life, Burny. We were quietly pretending to go to sleep when I decided to make one last-ditch effort at a love connection.

I LOUDLY whispered:

“Lo!!”

Lo answered back with a giggle and a ‘what?’

“I really like this guy… what should I do?”

Lo giggled again, but I felt Burny smile on the other side of me. I could hear his head moving on the pillow in the dark.

“I think you should kiss him,” LD suggested.

“What if he’s a bad kisser?” It was a legit concern. I mean, he was wonderful in every other way… how could he possibly be any good at kissing?

“You should still try it out and see,” LD urged again.

And so I did.

I made the move. I kissed him. And I assure you, he was a perfectly wonderful kisser. I even went so far as to give the results of the kiss to LD, who was still waiting on the other side of me for a full report.

Don’t worry… Burny and I went back out onto the landing and left LD alone to go to sleep. We didn’t put her through the awkwardness of hearing us making out for long. But before we left the room, I made sure to make one thing abundantly clear to Burny:

“I want you…” I started, unsure of how exactly to phrase what I wanted to say and yet, pretty sure I was off to the wrong start…

…”But I want to be your girlfriend.”

Burny smiled again and kissed me. It felt like we had been waiting years for that first kiss…

“Okay,” he said…

“Starting now.”

And so it was. We were boyfriend and girlfriend. It was the easiest relationship I’ve ever gotten myself into. No games, no gimmicks. Just pure excitement and honest intentions. And just as I had anticipated, I’ve never returned to ‘the market’ since that night. Exactly one year and one day later… I became his wife.

My wedding vows:

Thomas-

Four days after our first date, I said to my sister and my Maid of Honor, “If this guy actually likes me, I’m going to marry him.”

Six days after our first date… I asked you to marry me. You laughed at me and said no. But later that same night I tried a different approach and said: “I want to be your girlfriend.”

You didn’t say no and you didn’t laugh. You said: “Starting now.”

Today, almost two years to the day of that first date, I ask you again: Please marry me, because I want to be your wife. Starting now.

Falling in love with you has been the easiest thing that I’ve ever done. And I have only just begun to know what it is to love you. I never dreamed love could be like this. You have made me believe that I deserve love like this.

Loving you has never been the question; it’s always been the answer. The answer to my dreams, to my prayers and to every other question in my heart.

Thomas, you have shown me that romance is in the jokes and in the mishaps, and wrong turns, and even way out in the wilderness. Romance doesn’t have to be a preconceived notion. I know love isn’t perfect. But you have given me romance. And you have given me love.

You have taught me that it is okay to rewrite the old fairy tale, to find my own happily ever after. Who knew that a small town country boy, with a gun and a guitar would turn out to be my Prince Charming?

But most importantly, you remind me everyday that love is a journey not a destination. It’s hard and rough and sometimes we get lost, but as long as we have each other, we will find the right path for us. This is our journey, Thomas. Starting now.

You are the best man, the best friend, the best partner that I could ever hope to find. And I promise before God and our friends and family that I will work everyday to be a better woman, a better friend, and a better partner for you.

I love you with all of me.

I will always stand by you, Thomas, no matter what our happily ever after brings. Through hard and harder times, through children and grandchildren, through life and through death, I will be there with you.

I will be the one to hold your hand. Forever.

Thank you for loving me, Thomas. I will make you glad everyday that you do.

You sent me this quote in a text message the night you graduated basic training and it really sums it all up: Love never gives up and its faith hope and patience never fail.

 

 

Our original witnesses:

And down she goes

21 Sep

Brace yourself readers…

It’s time for cheat number 3. And it can’t be abbreviated.

Cheat number one was hard because as the title of that blog suggests: The first cut is the deepest. That’s true and all, but it doesn’t really hold a torch to cheat number 2. And cheat number 2, HurtLocker, is really quite forgivable when you compare him to cheat number three. So although this was not my first OR second heart-break… it was probably the worst. It definitely changed me drastically as a person. And when I look back on my relationship with this person, I really don’t even recognize myself. It’s a very specific version of me that never existed before or after this relationship. It’s very strange. And yet, if I had never had my heart so completely torn apart, I would never have needed 2 1/2 years for it to repair. And if I hadn’t had that time to fix what was broken and set new standards for myself… I never would have made my way to Burny. Life happens for a reason. And although it’s hard to even tell this story… I know that I have to embrace it. It’s part of me.

I met SinkinShip in early March of 2005. It had only been 3 months since I found out HurtLocker was engaged, and not that it has to be said, I wasn’t over that yet. I was still not eating and not sleeping, but I agreed to go out with Lizzard on that fateful night just because I was feeling really pathetic. She picked me up and we had every intention of heading to Pacific Beach (yes, I was living in SD at this time) or somewhere equally as ‘exciting’ but we had to make one quick stop before we began our night to say hello to her boyfriend at the time.

This is what really weirds me out… what if we hadn’t stopped? What if her boyfriend hadn’t gone out that night? What if I had just stayed home like I wanted to do anyway… where would I be? WHO would I be?

But alas, we went to Effin’s on El Cajon Blvd. If you’ve never been there, it’s a rather small Irish pub and one of my very favorite hang outs. I have so many good memories there, both before and after this night. And I find it very strange that I had never seen SinkinShip there before and I never knew him to go there while we were dating either. It was just one of those random, fate-ish things. But he was there on that night. And he was there with Lizzard’s boyfriend. There was no avoiding him. Not that I could have. There was a very strong connection between he and I, even from the very moment we saw each other. I can picture it very clearly, coming in the bar and him looking over and locking eyes… I can even remember what we were both wearing. It felt very cosmic. And I know that sounds cheesy but you’ll see as this blog progresses that this guy had a very strong pull on me.

Lizzard and I approached the table where both her boyfriend, and SinkinShip were stationed. It didn’t take Ship long to start a conversation with me. Lizzard had leaned in close to talk to her boyfriend and he and I were standing side by side rather awkwardly. It was very loud in the bar and he was very tall- 6’5”- so he had to lean way down to talk into my ear.

“I like your shoes.”

That’s what started it all. I was wearing black and pink Converses. I found it really intriguing that that was what he decided to open up with.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t see Chucks on girls very much”

“I wear them all the time.”

It was true… I did.

I was immediately attracted to Ship. He was exactly my ‘type’ if you will. Let me correct myself… he WAS my type; the type I had been attracted to from the time I started to notice boys up until Ship. It also has to be said that he was the last of this ‘type’ that I ever dated. Keep in mind that I was living in San Diego and I was wearing Chucks… Ship was tall and lean. He had amazing blue eyes, dark hair (which is a very rare combo it seems), and he had tattoos.Ttattoos were kind of my trade mark thing. If he looked like a douche, I probably liked him.

Ship was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and I could see a half sleeve (tattoo) just popping out at the bottom. True love.

So we were talking and because it was so loud he kept having to lean down and nearly shout in my ear. And after about 20 minutes of the shouting back and forth, he just kind of left his face near my ear and we talked like that… cheeks touching. I could just feel the chemistry right away, which should have been a huge warning sign for me. I can never think straight when there is chemistry. But as if that wasn’t enough of a reason for me to run in the other direction, I noticed something on his wrist as he was talking to me…

Another tattoo. And just as he was telling me a story about what he does for work- he was in the Navy OF COURSE- I cut him short and grabbed his wrist to examine it closer.

“Tell me this is written in ink!”

Ship looked at his wrist, licked his thumb and tried to rub it off. It didn’t even smudge. The tattoo on his wrist said:

Don’t be a pussy.

Are. You. Kidding. Me.

How on earth did I continue talking to this guy? Who does that? Who tattoos that on their wrist???? Trust me, I asked him all these questions and proceeded to berate him for being such an idiot. He gave me some story about how 12 of his friends all had the same thing and there was some reason for it, which of course I can’t remember now, because really… what reason could there be?

Well, that was a deal breaker for me. I wasn’t drinking and I was keeping my head on mostly straight and I just couldn’t be talking to a guy who had a tattoo like that on his wrist. No thanks! I was just about to leave when… I didn’t.

2 hours later, we were still chatting and Lizzard asked me if it was okay if she just went home with her boyfriend. He lived right down the street from the bar. I said sure, knowing that I had a lot of friends who lived nearby if need be. But also unwilling to leave my new-found idiot. So Ship and I talked well into the night… all the way until closing. I still wasn’t drinking, but NONE of my friends were answering the phone. Without really intending to, and without being even remotely intoxicated, I had gotten myself into a really uncomfortable and probably unsafe situation. Now, I’ve had my days in college but I didn’t make it a practice of going home with random men that I had just met that night at the bar. Certainly not! But at that point, I really didn’t see a lot of options. I could either go to Ship’s friends house with him. Or I could wander the streets at 2am hoping that one of my friends would either answer their phones, or be home when I got there. Neither sounded too great.

I decided to stick with Ship. He promised and swore that he would take me home in the morning and he wouldn’t try anything and that he would even walk me wherever I needed to go if need be. I had nowhere to go. I really hadn’t thought it through. So I decided to trust the guy with the ‘don’t be a pussy’ tattoo.

We went to his friend’s house and true to his word, Ship didn’t make a single move. We made some hotdogs at around 3am and continued talking. Ship had led quite a life. Another HUGE warning sign would have been his past drug use, his arrests, his family life, his crazy relationships… I don’t know, pick one. But at that time in my life, I was in the ‘I will fix him’ stage. I think all women go through some version of that, right? Well I certainly did. I thought to myself: I am going to change him. I am going to be worth it to him. He will change for me. What silly, silly thoughts. Please ladies… don’t ever even try to convince yourself of that. When you put your WORTH in someone elses hands like that… it won’t end well. Trust me.

We pulled out the sofa couch, slept side by side, and he didn’t so much as touch me. He took me home in the morning and dropped me off. We had exchanged phone numbers of course, and as soon as he drove away, he texted me that he had enjoyed meeting me.

And that is how we left it.

How different I would be if that is how we would have left it forever.

In the morning I told KayTown all about my brush with danger. She had been fast asleep when I was calling for a ride and so she was very concerned as to where I had ended up. I’m smiling to myself right now because Kay used to tell me that whatever guy I happened to be talking about was just “one of my guys.” I was somewhat of a flirt. I still am. But back in college, it was out of control. Week to week, my crush was someone different. I am a self-proclaimed lip slut. I love kissing and I had kissed my way across the entire state by that point. Note: A lip slut and a slut are not the same.

So when I told KayTown about my new crush, she brushed it off as if it were just another of my boys. And at first, it seemed like that would be the case. He didn’t call. No word. Not for a week. And then one week later I got a voicemail from a voice I didn’t recognize. It was him, but he didn’t say his name. He said that he had gone ‘out to sea’ and was back and wanted to see me. He said he was having a party at his house and I should come. I ran into Kay’s room and told her to get dressed. She was going to meet my crush! A week of thinking about a guy will always get a girl overly excited. This was no exception.

Kay and I went over to his house. I hate to even bring this up but he walked out to meet us and he was wearing board shorts and no shirt. He was into wrestling so this was a huge selling point, the whole no shirt thing. We went inside and he introduced us to everyone. He was very friendly, clearly the life of the party, and I had no trouble stepping up to meet that standard. Kay and I spent most of the night in the garage, chatting with his friends and he came back and forth to talk with us and then back into the house to be a host. It worked out quite well.

Towards the end of the night, still rather unsure of what the situation was going to develop into between he and I, Ship made a move. Kay and he and I were standing in the living room, just talking between the three of us, and he put one finger up as if to say “hold on a sec”. He took the drink out of my hand, he took the keys out of my hand and he took the phone out of my hand and he handed all of that to Kay, who was standing right there beside us. And then he put his hands on my cheeks, and he kissed me. It might sound awkward, but it was very sweet. And Kay and I were close enough so that it didn’t make her feel weird. She actually said:

“How cute! Was that the first kiss?”

It was the first of many.

I fell in love with Ship pretty quickly, fight as I might. He and I actually set up rules. He knew about HurtLocker, what had happened between us, and how devastated and fragile I was because of that relationship- which makes this story so much more painful- and he was aware that I wanted to take things slow. I know it may seem weird that we opened the X-files so quickly, but I really felt like I had to tell him where I was at. He needed to know that I wasn’t in the market to be messed with. And he seemed to understand and respect that. At first…

It was St. Patrick’s day and he and I had gone downtown with a few of my friends, and we were pretty drunk. I remember standing in the kitchen of my house afterwards and just staring at him and laughing and having a really great moment. And I remember him saying that he was totally infatuated with me. He couldn’t stop thinking about me. He was totally smitten. And I said:

“I’m in LIKE with you”.

One of our rules was that we were not going to say love. We were not going to fall in love. We were not even going to talk about things that had to do with love. Not at all. Being in LIKE was our compromise. And that’s what we used for a long while.

Shortly after we started dating, I became painfully aware of his ex girlfriend and her constant presence in his life. She called on average 20 times a day. He never answered- at least not while I was around- and he was always complaining about how crazy she was. The story seemed to fit. I remember spending the night at his house and finding a HUGE ink spot on his sheets. He said that it happened St. Patrick’s day. She came over and his roommates said he was out and so she broke a pen on his bed. Or so the story goes…

I should have seen this as yet another red flag. That is definitely not something I wanted to be involved with… but I was already in too deep.

Ship and I had a pretty relaxed situation at the beginning, which really was exactly what I needed. He had to go ‘out to sea’ often for training and I was in school and so we saw each other 3 or 4 times a week. It wasn’t everyday and that was nice. And to be perfectly honest, it was he who decided that we should be exclusive. It was he who decided to have ‘the talk’ with me. He made it serious. And I didn’t complain. But we still stayed away from that ‘love’ word. One time he said it on accident, more as a joke than anything else, and he gasped, covered his mouth and started apologizing. I had made a joke and he said: “You’re so retarded, I love you.” That was it. But it lingered…

I guess it was a few months in when things started to take a turn. I was graduating college in May of that year and I was heading to Oxford to study theater for the summer. I was actually planning to move back to Northern California before I left for Europe. That had been the plan and although we hadn’t really talked about it, I was already doubting my decision to move. When I finally did come clean to Ship about my plans, he was devastated. And at that moment, I felt him start to pull away from me and I felt myself hold onto him harder and harder. I really think that was the turning point. That was the beginning of me giving up myself to be with him.

Sometime before my graduation in May, Ship and I had our first major blow out fight. By that point in our relationship I had discovered that his party lifestyle was pretty much just that: a lifestyle. He was nothing short of an alcoholic, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the things I knew about his past dependency issues. And even more than that, he had anger management issues. And when I say that I mean that he was in court mandated classes for his anger management. But until that first major blow out, I really had not seen that side of him.

But that night, I’ll never forget. His roommate had gotten in a fight with his girlfriend and he had thrown a beer in her face. Yes, these are the type of people Ship hung out with. Of course the girlfriend stormed out, and of course, Ship felt that he needed to get involved. He ran outside after her and started running down the street after her car. As he was running, drink in hand, his pants fell down and he tripped and super maned across the cement. It should have been funny, but it wasn’t. It was sad. It was so pathetic that he was that wasted that I started to cry. And at this point in my life, I hadn’t talked to my own father because of his drinking problems for nearly 2 years, so seeing my boyfriend that drunk really stuck a chord with me.

When he saw that I was crying, he stumbled over to me and tried to figure out why. When I told him it was because he was so drunk… he lost it. I can’t really explain it. I have no idea why that set him off, but he completely lost it. He started punching the house and punching trees and screaming and throwing things. It was terrifying. I ran in the house and got into bed, hoping to just fall asleep. But he followed me in there, apologizing but still throwing things around. I was hysterically crying and totally beside myself but he just kept going.

I called Rossco at that point, even though it was about 4am, to come and pick me up. I had never been around someone like that and I was sure that the craziness was about to be turned on me. Rossco didn’t hesitate. He jumped in his car with another close guy friend of mine and he sped to get me. Thank God for that.

But as soon as Ship found out that I had called a guy to come and pick me up, he was livid. And this time it WAS directed at me. And what did I do? I apologized. I begged him to not be mad. I told him that I was stupid for calling anyone and that I was just going to go home and go to bed but that I would see him in the morning. And worst of all… I meant it. I really was sorry that I had made him so upset. Yep, I blamed myself.

When Rossco showed up, Ship insisted on walking me out. I was so scared. I had already seen Ship get into two fights and I was just so sure that that was exactly his intention when we walked up to Rossco. Thank the Lord, nothing happened. Ship kissed me and put me in the car. There was definitely some terrible looks exchanged between Rossco and my enraged boyfriend, but not even a word was mumbled. My friend driving the car had white knuckles he was holding onto the steering wheel so tightly. He couldn’t even look at Ship. I don’t blame him. And to this day I am so very sorry to both those boys for involving them in that. I brought them into such an awful situation and that wasn’t fair. But at the same time, I am so grateful to have had people in my life that care about me as much as those boys do. I feel lucky.

The next day, Ship refused to talk to me and I was miserable. I felt like the whole thing had been my fault and I was LITERALLY begging him to take me back. And please know that I have never been like this before. I have never been hit, I have never been in any sort of abusive relationship, but all the same… I was totally playing the role of the battered woman. I was defending him to Rossco. I was defending him to Kay and he was saying such awful things to me in return. He called me a slut. He said he never wanted to see me again. He said that I had ruined everything. It went on and on. But I did have one thing that he needed… his work boots. So after an entire day of convincing, he agreed to come over and get his boots so that we could talk.

All that he remembered from the night before was that I had called a boy and went home with him. He had no idea why I did it. He did not remember the punching or the yelling. He remembered that it was my fault. And when I told him about all the rest, he said:

‘Oh well, sorry.’

And that was it. He stayed with me that night. We were back together…

Our relationship only got worse, and I seemed to give up more and more of myself to make it better. Remember when I told you that I had put my worth in his hands… well the second that I convinced myself that I was going to be worth it to him to change his ways… was the second I decided that I was going to be treated this way. The more I wasn’t worth anything to him, the more I needed that worth. The more I tried to BE worth it.

One night he called me, it was a Wednesday and I had school the next morning, but he wanted me to go out with him in PB. He said that he was eating dinner and that he would be over to pick me up in an hour. I tried to convince him that I really didn’t want to go, but at the same time, I was so desperate for him to want me that I agreed. I got in the shower, did my make up, got dressed… and he never came. He wouldn’t even answer his phone.

One day he told me to come down to the beach and meet him. There used to be a huge party in PB every year called ‘PB Block Party’ and it had become somewhat of a tradition. I was planning to go regardless, but when Ship invited me to meet him down there, I was overjoyed. I went down there with DMo and it was the same story… he wouldn’t answer his phone. I was down at the beach for hours and I never found him. I found his car and I left him a note… he didn’t call me until the morning and he was mad at me because I had called him 22 times. He called me crazy. I apologized.

It wasn’t all bad though. It never is. Obviously there must have been some reason I stayed with him, right? Well… yes. But to be honest… I can’t remember the reason. I know he was funny and he could be very sweet. He was great to D’Monk and KayTown but that couldn’t have been all of it. I remember him taking me to a fancy brunch one time and I remember he went to a play just because it was ‘my thing.’ He did want to leave at intermission though… I don’t know. This is why this story is so hard for me to tell… I don’t know why I was this person. I can’t think of what would have come over me. It wasn’t real love. It couldn’t have been. Fear? I don’t know. It just makes me so sad. And it breaks my heart to think that some people live their whole lives this way… afraid. I wasn’t so much afraid of him… although the thought had crossed my mind that I should have been… but I was afraid that after everything, HE was going to leave ME. I just never knew what to expect. And I was just holding on for dear life…

When I graduated college, he was there. He was sitting in the audience, cheering me on with my mom, MacTen and my friends. LemonBass had come to see me graduate too, and of course that had caused a fight. Ship didn’t understand why I would have an ex boyfriend come to see me graduate. I didn’t understand why his ex girlfriend called so much, but I apologized. It was always my fault. And I’m sure that is why he came to my graduation anyway, to make sure I didn’t do anything bad, but whatever the reason I was so glad he was there. I remember feeling so validated that day because he was there. Because he made the effort. LemonBass had gotten on a plane. My family had driven 9 hours to be there… but the validation came from Ship.

That night was kind of a strange night, I have to say. Ship was actually quite the charmer. He stayed with me and my family all night. He even went with us to a gay bar. And he even stayed sober to watch over me and make a good impression on my mom… but that story is one for another blog. It’s actually quite entertaining. But I’m gonna breeze over it for now…

So after graduation, I had a major decision to make. Should I stay or should I go? Obviously we had been talking about it, and clearly I had been thinking about it non-stop. I wasn’t quite ready to leave San Diego, but I certainly wasn’t ready to leave Ship. I knew that would have been the end. So ultimately, I decided to stay in San Diego. I just wasn’t ready to quit. But even though I had decided to stay… that didn’t mean that my house was still available to me. I had already found someone to take my place… I was essentially homeless. But I still felt like it was the right decision.

So what did I do?

I moved in with Ship. It really wasn’t my intention for things to work out that way, but I have to say that I was very happy that they did. And I was even more overjoyed that he was allowing me to move in! I felt like we were finally taking a step in the right directions. I have no idea why the evidence leading up to this event would cause me to think that this was moving in the right direction, but that’s hardly the point. We both knew I was going to be leaving for over two months starting the following month (insert trip to Europe and studying at Oxford here) and so really, it was only ever going to be a temporary thing. He didn’t even give me a key.

Before I left for Europe, I went home to Northern California for 2 weeks. I moved in with Ship, slept there about 3 nights, and then I went home. It was the beginning of an extremely long separation for us. And leaving was very hard. I knew I was going to see him before I left for Europe, but that was only going to be for a few days… this was the beginning of the longest goodbye I’ve ever had.

The night before I left for home, Ship and I spent our last night in MY house. It was a very emotional, very humbling night. Ship was actually pretty broken up about it, and again, that was hugely validating. Anything that showed he cared was all I ever wanted. But he kept saying that I was leaving HIM. He made that very clear. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. I guess I WAS leaving him…

That night he told me he loved me. It was the first time. He broke the rule. And I loved him back.

I left the next morning. When I was home, we talked on the phone every night. One night, he broke out in hysterics talking to me. He said that he had taken everything for granted with me and now I was going to be gone. Remember how I said that when I first brought up the fact that I was leaving… I felt him pulling away. Well, apparently he regretted it. And that was all the fuel I needed to go over seas and feel confident in my relationship. He regretted treating me that way and so all was forgiven! I knew there was hope for us! I was willing to believe that a few weeks at the beginning of our relationship was what was real… and everything since had just been a bad day. He loved me. He really loved me. I felt it, finally! At the risk of being terribly lame and ironic, I’m going to quote one of my husband’s songs:

“That ain’t what love is. That ain’t what love does.”

I had a graduation party at my house in Nor Cal a few days before I left for Europe. Ship actually got on a plane and flew up for it. I couldn’t believe it. He kept telling me that he was going to, but I never really believed that he actually would do it. Even when he said he had bought the ticket, I still didn’t really believe him. But when I went to the airport to pick him up and he came down the escalator with a huge smile on his face, I knew that it was actually real. I thought that I just might be in the relationship that I hoped I was in. And it really felt like all the bad stuff was behind us and we were turning over a new leaf. He had told me he loved me. He had admitted he regretted everything. We had moved in together! We were ever starting to talk about getting married. It was really real.

The night of my graduation party, Ship was introduced as my boyfriend to everyone. Again, he didn’t get drunk and make a fool of himself. He seemed to be very much in control and he was happy to chat with anyone who he came in contact with. He understood that I had to mingle and that I wouldn’t really be able to babysit him. He didn’t need that. Despite it all, come to find out later, no one was really that impressed by him. I was the only one who really fell under his spell.

After the party, things took a change. My cousin, some friends of mine and of course, Ship and I, all went out to the bars. Ship made up for lost time and was quickly intoxicated. He was talking to this girl, clearly flirting with her, which really didn’t bother me as much as he was hoping it would. I knew that he was staying at my house and I knew that he was just trying to piss me off, and so I played right back. I started flirting with a guy friend of mine. About five minutes into that, he came over, grabbed me by the arm and made some rude commit about how I was acting. I brushed it off, but it was obvious that the night was over at that point.

We all took a cab ride home and the total cost of the cab was $12. My cousin had a few bucks, but the rest of the cab fare fell on Ship’s dime. He was my boyfriend after all, and it would have been the right thing to do to pay anyway, but for some reason, this really set him off. We had to walk about a block from where the cab dropped us off and by the time we got into the guest room at my mom’s house, Ship was beside himself. He started screaming at me and slamming doors and hitting the walls. He grabbed me several times and it felt like he wanted to throw me across the room, but he didn’t. I was just sobbing the whole time. He was saying things like:

“You are just like your mother.”

“No wonder your dad doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

He was really going for the gut and he was so far out of line it was hard to know where the lines were. He really didn’t know anything about my dad. Only that he was an alcoholic and we hadn’t talked in a while. But he also knew that it was a sore subject. And he totally used that against me. It was the first time in my life that I was really scared that I was going to be beat up. I was just standing there against the wall waiting for the blow.

It never came. Thank God. But neither did anyone else. Ship was screaming at me. There was a house full of people. And no one even knocked on the door. And you know how that made me feel? It made me feel like everyone thought I deserved it. Can you even believe what one person can do? Can you believe what control one person can have over another person? It still amazes me today.

He finally stopped yelling and started crying. Then came the apologies and the ‘I’ll never act like that again’s.’ I was a cliché.

The next day on the drive back down to San Diego, Ship was driving and he brought up the fight. I asked him if he remembered what had happened and he said he had. He clearly felt the same way sober as he had drunk the night before. I cried the whole drive home.

And then I left for Europe.

If you read my journal from Europe, you would never guess in a million years that a blog like this could ever exist. For the first month, I gush about Ship. I talk about how much I miss him and how much he understands me and supports me. I was gone for over 2 months and I talked to him 3 or 4 times. MacTen talked to her boyfriend almost everyday. Something is wrong with that picture.

But by the second month, about half way through my program in Oxford, a little light started to be shed. I was finally removed enough, and happy enough, and WORTH enough on my own that I was able to see for the first time, that maybe things weren’t the way I thought they were. Maybe Ship wasn’t the guy for me. I was hopeful, but I was also starting to be realistic. And my journal reflects that too. Thank God for Mac. This trip is where we really solidified that we NEED each other and that we will always be connected, no matter what distance comes between us. Mac was my rock through all of this with Ship, especially in Europe. Kay was there for the good times, Mac was there for the fall out. Kay was in New York by that time and although she tried to offer her support, she was going through her own blog-worthy relationship drama.

By the time Mac and I got on the plane to come home, I already knew that my relationship was over. I changed in Europe. My eyes were opened. And I really felt ready and prepared to end things with Ship. I knew it was the best thing for me. And more than anything, I knew that I had out grown him. I had become the person who was not going to put up with that shit anymore. But that didn’t make what was coming any easier…

Ship was at the airport when I got home from Europe. He had insisted on being there. And as soon as I saw him… everything I thought I knew went out the window. Love is stupid like that.

We went home to OUR house and I fell asleep. It was all just too much to deal with. And that’s what I did for an entire week. I just went to sleep instead of dealing with what I had realized in Europe. Instead of getting myself out of the shit hole I had put myself in. I did that until finally, I couldn’t sleep anymore. I just laid there. I just laid there next to this man who I didn’t even know, and I was afraid I was going to slip back into the girl I didn’t know as well. And it was on one of those restless nights that I heard Ship’s phone go off. It was past midnight. Who one earth could be texting him? I had to know.

And so I did something that I had never done before. I went through his phone.

The message had come from the ex girlfriend. The same one who had been tormenting me our entire relationship. We had been together nearly a year, and she was still around. What did she say:

“Hey, is Sarah your girlfriend? Because it says you have a girlfriend on myspace.”

Okay.

First of all: Myspace? Ship had a myspace when we first started dating and he deleted it because he didn’t want his ex to know what was going on in his life. As far as I was concerned he didn’t have a myspace. And now his ex… the same ex he was trying to avoid… was friends with him and I, his LIVE IN girlfriend, was not.

Second of all: Who the FUCK is Sarah?

Third: Why does your ex think that this SARAH is your girlfriend????

And finally: Why does you ex, who you talk to every single day, NOT KNOW that your girlfriend of nearly a year is named MRSWATERCLOSET?!!????!?!?!?

I can not tell you how difficult it was for me to lay there the rest of the night next to him. I can not tell you how sick it made me to kiss him goodbye in the morning. And I can not even begin to explain to you the amount of hate I felt when I got on his computer the second he walked out the door, found him on myspace and discovered that a SARAH had writen on his PUBLIC wall:

“I miss your penis. Come back soon.”

That is exactly what she wrote. I wish I could erase those words from my mind, but I don’t think I will ever be able to. She lived in Newport Beach. He wasn’t just cheating on me. He had a whole other GIRLFRIEND.

I called Mac, we went to lunch, and we planned my escape. I waited until he got home and I told him that I was leaving. I didn’t mention anything about anything. I just said that I couldn’t trust him and that I was leaving. And I did.

Again, I wish that was the end of the story.

I cried for a day or so. It was totally devastating, even though I knew that it was the right thing and even though I was already planning to do it BEFORE the penis missing Sarah. And if you’ll remember from the HurtLocker story (cheat number 2), I said that the best thing Hurt ever did for me was to just let me go. He never tried to explain. He never went after me. And that is a blessing. I’ll always be grateful to him for that, even though it tore me up at the time. Because that is something that Ship refused to do. He begged me to come back. He refused to leave when I came to pick up my stuff. And ultimately, he got the chance to ‘explain’ himself. I had to come back. All my stuff was there. I had to move out, and he knew that. So he just waited. And finally he got his moment. And he somehow managed to get a hold of me again, and he made me believe the completely ridiculous story that Sarah was yet another crazy ex who was just trying to cause him trouble. He had an excuse for everything. Everything. And I decided to believe him…

He was desperate to get me back, but I felt like I just couldn’t jump back in. Obviously. A few nights later, I was at a party and he was out with his friends and he called me and asked me to come home. I said I didn’t think it was a good idea and so we got into a fight and I ended up crying. I was drunk so I asked my sister if she would take me up to his house so that I could get the rest of my clothes out. I was done at that point. I had had it. He was trying to win me back and it was clear that nothing was ever going to change. I was through.

So D’Monk drove me to his house at about midnight. I knew he was gone because I had just talked to him at the bar. I had never known Ship to come home before last call so I figured we had some time. I was wrong.

I was in the garage, getting my clothes out of the dryer, when I heard my sister talking to someone at the front door. It was muffled and I couldn’t hear what was said, but I flew out of the garage to confront Ship.

I am not kidding you, as I opened the door and came into the kitchen, I saw Ship pushing a girl out the back door and onto the back deck. I was totally floored. Had he brought a girl home? Had he called me and asked ME to come home and when I refused, brought someone else home?? No. Couldn’t be.

I walked to the front door and asked my sister if that was Ship. SHe nodded. She looked totally freaked out. I asked her if he had a girl with him. SHe nodded again. I sighed. I just sighed. And I think I laughed. I was just dumbfounded. I couldnt’ believe it. After everything…

I went to his room, picked up the rest of my stuff and walked out the front door and got in my sister’s car. And just as she was about to pull away, I changed my mind. He couldn’t get away with this. And so I did what every other girl would do…

I became the girl that Ship would tell his one night stand was his ‘crazy ex girlfriend’.

Ship met me at the front door and led me out into the street. He started walking away from me down the street but I wasn’t going to let him get away. He kept saying “baby… just come here.” Can you believe that? And of course I said every cliché in the book.

“You just lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“No one will ever love you like I did.”

“You are no better than HurtLocker…”

“Turn around and say goodbye to me!”

All the good lines. And I kept it together… or so I thought. When I got to the bottom of his street I realized that my entire face was wet with tears… but I didn’t even feel them anymore. I don’t think I even let him speak at all. I got back in my sister’s car and I completely broke down. I think D’Monk even started crying. I don’t know that anyone has ever seen me that upset. And to be honest, I think I was crying for Hurt and for Ship all at once. I was feeling the tear of both of them… the first tear I wouldn’t allow myself to feel and so this time… it was so much worse. I really thought I would never be able to trust ever again. D’Monk took me straight to Mac’s house. It was almost 4am.

Even after all of that, the saga of SinkinShip and MWC did not end there. He showed up at my house. He called in the middle of the night. He emailed. He wouldn’t give up… and my heart just couldn’t take it anymore. I kept slipping up. I would go back, for a day or an hour, but it always ended up the same way. He really never changed. And I just couldn’t stop listening to the excuses. I just couldn’t tear myself away. So I decided that I had to move away. I guess you could say that I decided it was time to RUN away.

I remember telling Mac that in my car when we were leaving the gym one day. I told her that I was going to have to move home and she broke down crying. She told me that she didn’t think that it was the right thing to do. She said that of course she didn’t want me to go for selfish reasons, but she really felt like it was a mistake to run away. She was right. I moved in with her and I lived on her couch for almost a year. And that is where I met Raps too. And with the help and support of my amazing friends, I was able to stop answering the phone when he called. And now that he didn’t know where I lived, I was able to avoid him. He was almost out of my life…

I was at my favorite club in PB. It had been months since the last time I answered Ship. He still texted me sometimes, but I had stopped answering. I was standing at the bar, about to order a drink when I saw him. He was standing at the opposite side of the circular bar and he had already seen me. He was staring at me and he has this shit eating grin on his face like I was some long-lost friend or something. I broke eye contact and walked away. I felt my phone buz in my pocket:

“You too chicken to talk to me?”

I ignored it.

But as we were about to leave, I saw him coming at me out of the corner of my eye. There were crowds of people between us and I could see that his girlfriend, SARAH, was standing in front of him yelling at him. But he was looking right over her head at me. And just as I passed, he reached over her, through the crowd and he grabbed my arm. He yelled:

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

I answered:

“Because I don’t like you.”

It just came out of my mouth, but in hindsight, it was a pretty perfect thing to say. I pulled my arm out of his grip and glanced back just long enough to see his girlfriend become enraged. And I felt this huge weight life off my shoulders. I thought to myself, ‘that’s not me anymore’. I don’t have to be his girlfriend anymore. I’m done.

And I went home and I cried. I cried because I was disappointed in myself. I cried because I was embarrassed. And I cried because it was finally over. I was really done. And I was.

I saw him one more time to say goodbye. And it was a real goodbye. We both said our piece and then we went our separate ways. Gotta love closure.

I made a decision after that night at the bar. I realized that even though he was clearly the one doing all the wrong in the relationship, I was the one who not only picked him to be in my life, but allowed him to stay as long as he did. What a waste. Never again. That is what I decided. Never again. Not even if I ended up alone forever. I was never going to let my heart make any decisions. I was not going to talk to anyone with a tattoo. I was not going to even TALK to anyone not worth the time it took to say hello. I just wasn’t. I couldn’t afford it. Between all my failed relationships, I had wasted YEARS of my life. But like I said at the beginning of this blog… hours ago… I was not going to regret a minute of it. Even then, even when it was breaking my heart, I still knew that Ship was going to be THE reason for the rest of my life turning  out well. I knew that if I had never met him, I would have never had such an amazing wake up call. I just wouldn’t have become the person I am now. And for that, I have to thank him.

Absolutely everything happens for a reason.

The next boy I dated…

…was Burny.

And the last time I talked to Ship was when he saw my wedding pictures on facebook. He said I looked beautiful. I did. And I didn’t need him to tell me that. I already knew.

Tim

9 Jun

I have to tell you as I start this blog I’m not entirely sure where to begin…

I have been thinking about this for some time now, sure it needed to be said, but not sure how to say it. I intended to write this on Mother’s day… as it would be the three-year anniversary… but I guess I wasn’t really ready yet.

I’m ready now.

This is definitely a ‘Tearin’ up my heart Tuesday’ type post. Be warned. This will be hard to read.

When I met MacTen a million years ago, I knew only a few things about her. She was a freshman in college and I, a junior. She was to play my girlfriend in what would become the most life changing piece of theatre I have ever been a part of. And of course I knew then that we were destined to be best friends. I knew this very quickly about her… it didn’t hurt that we were quickly tossed into this complete emotional upheaval, and would grow to need each other in such a desperate way (as always… another blog), but there was just something truly honest about her. This is slightly ironic because if you ask her, she would tell you that she doesn’t think she is the most honest of people. And that’s not to say she lies. I don’t know if I’ve ever been on the receiving end of a lie from her… but all the same, she can’t always admit the truth. Mostly to herself.

But there was one thing that was true about MacTen…

She had once loved a boy named Tim… In this case, I don’t see it fitting to give Tim a blog name.

When I met MacTen, she had just begun a relationship with a fellow we will call SomethingMoore. She talked about him often, she was obviously very excited about this new relationship, but very early on she compared him to Tim. I didn’t know Tim… I had never met him, and truthfully, at the time I didn’t ask a lot of questions. Freshmen in college often have Tim’s at home. But there was something about this guy… something behind the story. And sure enough, in time, I would come to know what that something was.

When MacTen and I were traveling through the grand continent of Europe, we got to know each other. If you have ever spent two months of every single waking hour with someone (and not always the most pleasant of waking hours), than you know that there is no helping knowing that person at the end of such a journey. And a huge part of MacTen that I got to know over the course of those two months… was Tim.

I had already pieced together a lot of the story before I even asked her any questions. Tim had clearly broken her heart. We were no longer friends with Tim. He was dating a horrid beast now, whom he of course cheated on MacTen with, and we hated both their guts. But all the same… I could just tell that MacTen had only the best of feelings for this Tim, whom she hated. So of course, all this begged the question:

What’s the deal with Tim?

A long three to four year story short, told over the course of several of our nights in hostels is this: MacTen met an older guy named Tim in high school. He more or less joined her family for the term of their relationship. He had a hard family situation, not necessarily close with his mother, and his father was ill for a time. Because of this, he chose to immerse himself in her world. He was absolutely adored by our mutual friend Raps, Mac’s family and everyone else who knew him. He was not a bad guy, as I had originally thought. As a matter of fact, when Mac was telling me about her relationship with Tim, I couldn’t help but forget entirely that it had an unhappy ending. Tim was Mac’s first love, but it was a very intense and real first love. I could tell, having experienced something similar myself, that she still harbored a deep love for him… even as she told me about him years after ending all contact with him.

The relationship took a turn when Tim met the horrid beast, who he ultimately left Mac for. He became distant, and try as she might, Mac simply could not salvage the relationship. He left her. He just up and pulled himself out of her life entirely for this other girl like a drain from a bathtub. And for a year or so after the fact, Mac tried to be what he needed not knowing exactly what that was. And Tim, unfortunately used her, although I could see that it was because he couldn’t figure out how to let her go either. They were attached to each other. Mixed. But of course, as all things do, Tim and Mac finally did end for good. And as she told me this, it had been years since that had happened. No contact. None at all. And it was so sad to hear her talk about that time. It has to be said that Mac is one of the most giving and genuine people I have ever met and I could see the real pain in her at having not been able to fix Tim. Mac and I are the same in that way; we are fixers. And we fail more than we fix, though not due to lack of effort.

I remember feeling a deeper connection to Mac after having heard the entire Tim saga. I remember feeling like I knew or understood her better. And I think it would be the same for Tim, if someone were to hear about his MacTen. And more than anything, I remember feeling sorry and sad for Tim. It seemed like his life had just taken such a terrible turn with this new girl, and I remember thinking that he had just been swept away. I even remembered certain times when Raps would bring up his name in such a way that made it sound like she really missed him and cared for him as a friend, and although I had never met him, after hearing it all, I felt the same way.

I bring all this up because it is crucial to the story. Tim was such a building block in the foundation that was my best friend. And his named carried so much weight. Just the mention of him begged no more questions, just emotion. I know it sounds dramatic, but that was the way it was. Tread lightly with that heavy topic.

For example, after returning home from Europe armed with all the information, I remember a night when Mac said to Raps and I:

Tim is engaged.

We knew to who. We knew what that meant. We knew how that broken a part of her. There was no need for any questions. Drinks, yes. But no questions.

A time later:

‘She’ broke off the engagement.

We knew who ‘she’ was. We knew what that meant. Raps and I now had MANY questions, but they couldn’t be asked. As I mentioned before, Mac wasn’t always honest with herself, and she wouldn’t have answered our questions honestly. Keep in mind, she had now been dating SomethingMoore for a few years. Throwing Tim back into the mix… Raps and I could only imagine what that would mean.

And then one day, quite literally out of the blue, I got a call from Mac. She was in quite a state and it was a very brief conversation but she said that Tim had called her. I remember hanging up and thinking: Oh my God. What does this mean? Here we go…

I even mentioned to a friend whom I happened to be with that the Earth had just changed directions.

 After some piecing together of the story, I figured out that Tim had contacted Mac’s parents after all that time to try to get ahold of Mac. To be frank, I could not believe the BALLS that took. Mac’s parents had to hold their little girl together for months after Tim left. They had to literally turn their back on someone who they had taken into their home. Tim had become one of the family and then had just up and betrayed them all and then disappeared. And then, years later, he calls to apologise. I just couldn’t believe it.

As a matter of fact, I remember it now, I believe he told her parents to either pass on a message or pass on his phone number. He knew that it would be too much to ask to contact her directly. He knew, even then, that he didn’t deserve it. I believe that’s what Mac told me when she called. That he had called her parents. Either way, it was very clear to all of us that Tim was back. In what capacity, that would remain to be seen, but he was back.

Mac’s relationship with SomethingMoore had been a little rocky, that needs to be said, but Tim was always going to be the deal breaker. I think Moore knew that as well as any of us. And sure enough, the relationship was put on hold as soon as Tim returned. None of us expected anything less, and none of us really blamed her for a second. This was Tim. This was different.

Of course Mac contacted him. She saw him. She heard him out. And I don’t want to say that she fell for him again because that would infer that she hadn’t always loved him which would be false. The only HUGE warning sign for me was the horrid beast. She had broken it off with him. He had moved back to San Diego (from Colorado I believe) and he had never been by himself. The last person he trusted and loved before her was Mac. So of course, she would be the likely choice for support. It all made sense. But it all scared the shit out of me. I knew Mac was just like me; I knew she would not guard her heart like the circumstances called for. And before long, Tim was completely mixed back into her life. They saw each other regularly. They kissed. They were in constant contact.

I remember one time she told me that he had left her a message and the only thing on the message was the song ‘The Reason’ by Hoobastank.

“I’m not a perfect person

There’s many things I wish I didn’t do

But I continue learning

I never meant to do those things to you

And so I have to say before I go…”

I’ll never hear that song without thinking of Tim.

Then, there was a package left on Mac’s doorstep. It was a card with a letter continuing his ever-present apology for the way things had gone in their relationship years before. And included was a framed picture from a trip that the two of them had been on while together. I have to say that I found this incredibly strange. I just thought that it was really unusual that he would come all the way across San Diego to drop something off on her porch when he knew she was inside asleep. It became even more unusual when Mac figured out that he had slept in his car outside of her house most of the night. I mean, I had still not met Tim personally, but I was very weary of all of this. Of course Mac was- for the most part- unconcerned and even Raps put my mind at ease telling me that “I just didnt’ know Tim.”

It would soon become all too apparent that none of us really knew Tim.

At a certain point, the horrid beast came back into the picture and Tim once again wanted to cut off all ties with Mac upon the other woman’s request. This didn’t really hold like it had in the past, but it was heartbreaking all the same. Needless to say, it was most upsetting because it was expected. In the end, all the back and forth between Mac and Tim went on for no longer than a month.

On the Wednesday before Mother’s Day that year, Mac received a very normal message from Tim. He asked her to call him back but also may have mentioned that he was sure she wouldn’t. I believe her plan was not to. Not after the yo-yo game he had been playing with her heart.

Then it was Mother’s Day… only a few short days later.

Mac, Raps, LoDown and I were house sitting together near La Jolla. Raps had a co-worker who was always leaving town and who was always willing to offer up her house for ‘girls nights’ in her absence. We girls always took full advantage, and on this particular evening, we were very much enjoying having the place to ourselves; just the four of us. (Looking back, it’s so serendipitous that it happened this way). It was something of a ‘goodbye’ weekend as well. LoDown and I were only two weeks away from moving back to Northern California and leaving San Diego for good. It had already been a very sad time for the four of us close friends, and the whole Tim thing had really only added to the sadness. I already felt terribly guilty for leaving my best friend in the middle of this huge crisis situation revolving around Tim and his girl (which is how I saw it anyway).

We were all just arriving in La Jolla that night, around nine o’clock, and when Mac walked into the house she had her phone up to her ear. She wasn’t talking, but she motioned for us to be quite while she listed. A message.

It was Jennifer, Tim’s sister.

Basically the message said that Tim had not called her yet today, and being that it was Mother’s Day and Tim and Jenn were close, she was concerned. She still lived back in Colorado and she trusted and knew Mac well, so she was wondering if Mac would try to track him down for her. Of course Jenn did not know what the current situation with Mac and Tim was, but of course that didn’t matter. Mac said that she sounded concerned, and we all knew that this was not like Tim, so Mac quickly dialed Tim’s number.

He didn’t answer.

I remember standing in the living room of this house and thinking, “Something is wrong.” I could tell that Mac thought so too by the tone of her voice, but as soon as the thought entered my head, I pushed it out again. People don’t answer their phones. People forget Mother’s Day. That doesn’t mean anything. I took a breath and sat down in the oversized chair across from the couch. Mac, Raps and Lo all sat down on the couch across from me, Mac in the middle. I can picture it as clearly as ever.

Raps took over the calls, knowing that Mac was upset, and Lo and I took on the job of suggesting out loud places that Tim could be, or scenarios that would cause him to not answer his phone. Looking back, this seems odd. If one of my friends didn’t answer the phone, I wouldn’t feel the need to convince myself that they were okay. I think we all already knew…

Raps called Tim’s best friend and had a brief conversation with him. He was unconcerned but Raps told him that Jenn was looking for Tim and if he could try to find him, that would be helpful. He agreed. He also said that he had just seen Tim on Thursday. Apparently, this group of guy friends from high school (Tim included) were very close. Back in high school a close friend of theirs had died in a car accident. Thursday was the anniversary of this friends death and they had all gone out to the grave together and had had a drink on his behalf. Tim’s friend said that he had dropped Tim off at his apartment afterwards.

Raps told the friend to call her with any news and then Raps called another close friend of Tim’s. He didn’t answer. As we were sitting there discussing what could have happened, Raps got a text message from the friend she had just called. It said (more or less):

I just found out. I can’t talk.

Raps read this out loud. I remember looking at Lo and seeing the same look on her face that I felt in my heart. Mac just seemed confused. I guess we all were.

Raps texted back asking for more information. No answer. My heart was pounding. Raps called the friend again and this time he answered. I’ll never forget the conversation.

Raps asked him what was going on. Of course I could only see and hear Raps side of the conversation, but it seemed that there was no answer on the other end. She then asked if he knew where Tim was and told him that Jenn was looking for him. Then she seemed to get angry as if the friend on the phone knew where Tim was and was hiding something. Raps yelled at him and said “If you know where he is, this is fucked up. Jenn is really worried.”

Then something happened that I’ll never forget.

There was a pause and then Raps face totally changed. In an instant she stood straight up and yelled into the phone “What does that mean?” And she kept repeating it. Then she sat right back down again. I will never forget that. She shot right up out of her seat and then sat right back down again. It was so jarring and so telling. My heart sank and tears immediately fell down my cheeks. It was such a knee jerk reaction. Before I had even registered sadness, tears had covered my face. I knew.

Raps hung up the phone and her voice was shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Mac just kept looking at her and then at Lo and I. I stood up and moved to the table in front of the couch. I grabbed Mac and Raps hands, ready for whatever Raps was about to say, although I already knew. And Mac just kept looking at me, crying, and Raps, shaking, and she just looked so confused. It was as if her mind was literally blocking the information from processing. Her eyebrows even furrowed when she looked at me like she was completely lost as to what was going on. I think she even asked me why I was crying.

Raps said that the friend on the phone had said (more or less):

“They found a body, but we don’t know if it’s Tim.”

This was what made Raps shoot up out of her seat. At hearing her get upset the friend began repeating “We don’t know if  it’s Tim. It might not be Tim.” He couldn’t believe it either. I guess he had just found out only a few minutes before our call.

To be honest, I don’t know if Mac really broke down completely at that moment. It all became such a rush. Raps just kept repeating the friend’s words: It might not be Tim. But then she also said that the body in question was at Tim’s apartment. Tim lived alone. I just remember nodding. Nodding and crying and holding onto them. I knew what this meant… but I couldn’t say it out loud. I didn’t want to be the one. And my mind kept fighting against itself. I couldn’t even really wrap my head around it myself. I remember asking Raps several times, “Where are they taking him.” I still didn’t want to believe that a ‘body’ was a ‘dead body’. I wanted to hold onto the idea that he was just hurt. I think that I even said, “They found him in time.”

To me that says that I knew exactly how they found him. As much as it didn’t make any sense at all… it all made perfect sense.

Tim was gone. And he had done it on purpose.

If I recall correctly, there was another call made to the best friend whom we had talked to first. He still hadn’t heard and was really alarmed at how upset Raps was. He, too, just could not believe it. He promised to get more information. I can’t remember how much time passed or how we actually got the confirmation but it was true. Tim had committed suicide.

Shortly after we had found out for sure, Mac’s phone rang again. It was Jenn. Mac immediately broke down and freaked out. She said she couldn’t be the one to tell her that her brother had… (Mac still couldn’t even say it). Of course not. We let Jenn leave a message and then I was the one to listen to it. Again, one more thing I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

She sounded calm and shocked. There was a slight waver in her voice as she spoke, but she already sounded exhausted. She said (more or less):

“This is Jenn…

 I just got a call from the police and Tim…

… committed suicide…

I haven’t talked to anyone yet but I’ll keep you posted about… whats happening.”

It was just devastating. I erased the message, hung up and said: “She knows.”

The rest of the night was such a blur. To remember the exact details of part of the night and then not at all the rest is somehow very strange. I think that’s part of being in shock. We were all definitely in shock. I do recall SomethingMoore coming over for support. After all, although he was not Mac’s first love… she was most definitely his. I also remember calling Mac’s mom at some point and telling her to come over. Although I think that we told her over the phone what was going on, I remember when she arrived we all met her in the front yard…

Mac ran out to her near the car and I remember her specifically saying: “He’s not… No… No… No.” With each ‘no’ she understood a little more… and she broke down. She has said that she always thought of Tim as a son and she was just as devastated when he left their family as Mac was. She loved him too. And she just could not believe that he would so such a thing.

We must have rehashed all the details 100 times that night. We cried, we yelled, we even laughed a little. After a while, a flood of texts begin to come to both Raps and Mac’s phones. The group from high school was suddenly reconnecting again. Everyone was trying to make sense of it… and trying to figure out what to do next. They planned to meet the following day at Garden Road… which had been their hang out since the beginning of time.

The next day, Lo and I were brought into this group of mourning friends. It was so strange to be on the outside. I had still never met Tim, but knowing Mac was knowing Tim and everyone there seemed to know that. Some of the guys cried, some were pissed like I was… and even when the horrid beast (whom Tim seemed to blame in his final letter- or at least that’s the gist I got) showed up, everyone welcomed her in. Even if she had been a bad influence on him, or had broken his heart… it wasn’t her fault.

When someone does this, there is such a range of emotions that everyone goes through. Everyone has their own journey of course, but it effects everyone on some level. Even people like me, who never actually met him… it has changed my life. I will forever have had gone through this with Mac and the rest of his friends and family. And it’s hard for me to believe that Tim had no idea the pain he would cause so many people. Personally, I felt angry. Some people feel disbelief… a lot of people are in denial. Some are sad and some feel guilty or responsible. I know that his best friend, the one who we had to break the news to, had been the last person that Tim called as it turns out. He will have to live with that for the rest of his life. He will have to live knowing that if he had just answered his phone that one time… maybe things would be different. That’s not fair. That makes me so angry.

I have been depressed. Obviously I’m not going to compare my suffering to Tim’s, but I’ve been cheated on, broken, emotionally beaten, left, betrayed… we all have had it bad sometimes. But how bad does it have to be where you think that there is NO WAY it will EVER be better? How bad does it have to be where it’s worth putting your friends and family through what we all went through? How can that not be considered?

We never found out how he did it. That’s always the question: How did he do it? We don’t know. Those who knew wouldn’t tell Mac. They wouldn’t tell her because they said that they wished they didn’t know.

The police found him. They had to break down his door at the request of a friend. He was in there. He had left a note. And that’s the other thing… I guess the note was two pages. How do you sit down and write out a two page suicide note and then still go through with it? Isn’t that enough catharsis? Isn’t that enough to snap you out of it? I guess I will never understand this.

And the whole time I kept thinking… this isn’t just anyone… this is Tim. This is Mac’s Tim.

The day after, when Tim’s ex-fiance showed up at the gathering, she only made it as far as the curb. Although no one blamed her out loud, I can only imagine the guilt she must have been feeling. It’s not fair. After about ten minutes of her crying on the curb in front of the house, Mac stood up and walked over to her and hugged her. After all the pain that this girl had caused Mac… she still was the bigger person and knew that they were both suffering a huge loss. She hugged her.

The girlfriend said to Mac: He loved you.

It’s not fair.

I wanted to tell this story because I think it needs to be told. I didn’t see this coming. It’s always a shock when someone does this, but looking back, all the signs were there. Tim was going back into his past and trying to right his wrongs. Tim was depressed and desperate. Tim was acting erratically… sleeping outside Mac’s house. He was giving away important things to him. It was all there. But it’s so hard to admit that to ourselves. It’s hard to see and it’s so hard to accept that someone might be thinking the worst…

Tim’s dad killed himself a few weeks later. Now Jenn is alone. To me, this is even worse. How can you see all the pain and suffering that Tim caused… how can you feel it for yourself… and then go ahead and do the same thing. I think about Jenn often and what she must have gone through… what she still goes through. It’s not fair.

This has been a huge lesson to me. I trid to be a better friend because of it. I wanted to make sure that I always offered myself to everyone at all times. And I wish I could say that I will never let this happen to another friend, but it already has… a good friend. That is another blog as well. Bnd despite all this, I know that it’s not my fault if I miss something… it’s not my choice. But I can only hope that maybe someone out there listening will not make the same choice that Tim made. I hope you stay for another day. It may seem so, but life really isn’t that bad… and it has to get better. It just has to. And if you don’t want to be here anymore… just KNOW that SOMEONE wants you here. Probably a lot of someones…

I promise you… life is worth living.

I know this is heavy, but like I said, it’s important. I hope I made you think… and more than anything, I hope none of you have to go through this. But if you do, just know that… It isn’t fair. And it’s not your fault.

Not her finest moment

24 Feb

Since it’s a WhoopsieDasiey Wednesday, and I have been kind of indulging in the ‘fall’ stories, I thought I would change it up a bit. Let me remind you all that a fall is not the only time one might say ‘Whoopsie Daisey.’ For example, if someone were to make a mistake… or over do it on something like say, alcohol… that would be a ‘Whoopsie Daisey’ moment, now wouldn’t it?

This story is about MacTen. Yes, dear, you. Specifically a very large ‘Whoopsie Daisey’ moment that she and I shared back in Oxford, England. Well, to be fair, JumpSki was there too.

I believe I mentioned this program back in one of my travel blogs, but all the same, MacTen and I were lucky enough to attend the prestigious British American Drama Academy at Oxford University. I had just graduated college and she had not yet turned 21. But in Europe, you’re 21 when you’re born, so she was taking full advantage of that particular freedom during this ‘Whoopsie Daisey’ moment.

It was the final day of the program. All of our scene work had been presented, which was the culminating portion of the entire summer. We, as students, had been attending only 4 classes a day, but they were intense and they were taught by brilliant English and American teachers who were all MORE than qualified to be teaching us, to say the least. I can’t speak for everyone when I describe these classes, but I will give it a go all the same.

Shakespeare class. For me it was taught by a fiery women by the name of Irina Brown. She was Russian and she took being Russian very seriously. I wouldn’t joke about a thing like that. This woman was a nightmare, and the first half of the summer, I hated her. She embarrassed me. She called me out on my weaknesses. She was relentless. She expected so much. But of course, as I grew over the summer, both as a person and a performer, winning her respect became one of my highest goals. It might have taken me a minute to realize, but those are the types of people that are put in our path to teach us… more than anyone else, and I learned a great deal from that woman. I will never forget her. Aside from her erratic behavior sometimes, this woman wore only one thing the entire month of July. Every single day, I kid you not. JumpSki can vouch for this. She wore a floor length jean skirt, and an over sized, oatmeal colored, knit sweater. Her hair can best be compared to the main of a lion simply because her face kind of resembled a lion. So there ya go, there is Shakespeare class.

Movement class. Another teacher I will not soon forget but for entirely different reasons. I am smiling now as I think of him. He was completely opposite Irina. His name was Ben. Just Ben, can’t remember his last name, but we called him Big Ben or Uncle Ben. He was quite tall, impossibly thin and old as can be. There is something in the water in Europe because these people live forever. He was completely insane, but in a ‘I’m high on drugs’ kind of way. He called me Wendy Bendy- which I never quite figured out… because I am NOT flexible in any way- and he always spoke as if he were singing. Every word was drawn out. At the talent show that summer, he wore butt-less pants and played a song on his bare ass. And once in class, he spent the entire 1 hour 45 minute period running us through an exercise that required us to act like we were on a sinking ship. That’s it. For nearly 2 hours, he dictated the weather and we reacted as if on a sinking ship. Crazy but brilliant. That will make you think!

Audition Techniques. In this class I had my biggest break through as an actor. We only had this class once a week, so four times total, but we were expected to have learned a new monologue each week. That sounds simple enough, but learning a new monologue means reading the play from which it comes, researching the era, researching the character, blocking, practicing, memorizing and not to mention, FINDING a new one from Border’s books across the road. I did a monologue from “Tongue of a Bird” that I won’t soon forget. This class was very intense, but I can’t recall much about the teacher, specifically.

Modern class. In this class we worked on very modern, very obscure pieces. For half the month I had Barry… bless his heart. He reminded me entirely of what you would picture an older English gentleman to look like. He had a comb over and wore knit caps, as well as sweater vests. But he was so darling and brilliant. He taught me so much about character research and development, even for the most simplest of roles (if there is such a thing). And for the second half of the month, we had a lovely, young, black man as a teacher. I forget his name at the moment, but I know that he called EVERYONE ‘my baby’… but really it was one word: mybaby. “That was brilliant mybaby.” “No, do you see what you’re doing there mybaby?” Oh yes… his name was Leo, I remember now. He makes me smile too.

And of course Voice class. Not singing. Voice. Like speaking and accents and pronouncing things correctly and all that. This class was where I struggled the most personally. I have a hard time placing my voice correctly. One bad voice couch in college, and everything is ruined. But the teacher was Linda Gates. I’ll not soon forget her name. She was the most entitled, but lovely woman I’ve ever met. So pompous but loveable. I don’t know how she pulled it off. That class often got long and boring because we were sitting most of the time, and nearly running ourselves into the ground the rest of the day, so here and there we would ask her a question to get her off topic… she loved name dropping and getting off topic, if it meant she got to tell us a story about something amazing that had happened to her. She literally spoke with her nose in the air, but you had to love her. She was my only American teacher. Taught in Chicago. Some of the students actually had her as a teacher in the states.

So anyway, that is a taste of my favorite summer to date, but that is not entirely off topic. I had to kind of give you all a little back ground so that you might understand the weight that was lifted off our shoulders the final day of classes. No more scenes, no more rehearsing well into the night on the lawn while the bats dive at us, no more reading plays at all hours, or performing monologues to the walls… all was done. All was performed. We were free.

And in celebration of this, BADA put on a HUGE closing night dinner in the great dinning hall. And by great dinning hall I mean just that. We are talking Harry Potter style. 3 long tables of students, with the faculty at the table at the far end of the hall. Seriously, the movie was filmed just down the street.

Hp

We had a great meal- only the very first and the very last meal there were eatable… it was England after all- and all the wine and champagne one could drink. So we students felt that we could really let our hair down and have a good time. 140 kids, most of whom were under age, letting their hair down for a party with the faculty is a terrible, terrible idea. But alas, we had to comply. And party we did.

I can’t say that I remember dinner too clearly. There was great chocolate cake, but I can’t be sure if I actually remember that or if I only remember the pictures of it.

A well known actor spoke at the dinner- I’m not one for names, someone remind me who it was… he was in Shakespeare in Love- and I can’t remember anything that he said, but I remember being moved. When the time came for dinner to be over, even though we had been terribly over served as it was, MacTen decided that it would be a good idea to ‘barrow’ a few bottles of wine and take them back to our rooms before heading down to the dance, where more alcohol was being served. I think her logic might have been that they were charging at the dance, who can know for sure?

So about 10 of us went back to our room, MacTen the ringleader, and we had a few more glasses of wine before heading down to the dance.

I don’t remember the dance at all.

I do, however, remember telling MacTen that I was pretty sure I would be puking and her consoling me and telling me that it would be okay if I needed to do that. I remember going back to my room to drunk dial my boyfriend back in the states- this boyfriend is SinkinShip who will come into play soon as ‘cheat’ number 3- and of course getting off the phone angry. It was sometime in the morning for him, but don’t worry… he was drunk too. And I remember heading back down to the dance and sitting on the steps outside laughing at ALL the drunk people and watching the kids kiss whoever their crushes were throughout the summer. Alcohol has a funny way of lowering your inhibitions.

Then, all at once, MacTen told me that she just needed to throw up a little and she would be fine. Now, for MacTen to throw up… this is pretty much par for the course. For ME to throw up… well, there have only been 3 times that I have thrown up for drinking in my nearly 27 years. Age 20, Age 21 and Age 25. I am not proud of any of these. Surprisingly enough though, this night was not one of those nights, despite the fact that I had announced that it would be.

So anyway, MacTen and I head to the bushes, yes the bushes, and she ador places her finger down her throat. I have to marvel at her every time she does this. I have never been able to do it. My body fights throwing up like you wouldn’t believe. I have done the stick my finger down my throat game, I have even had someone else do it not believing I was doing it right, and nothing. Never. I just can’t make it work that way. But MacTen, she is a seasoned pro. So she handles her business in the bushes of Balliol college. But don’t worry, she was not out of place. As she was puking, a friend of ours comes up and pees in the bushes just a ways down from us. This is why, people, the legal drinking age should be 21. Kids just can’t handle their shit.

After this escapade, I decide to take MacTen back up to my room. As is sometimes the case, once the chamber is open, there is really no stopping it. It’s kind of a 50/50 game. It either frees up the rest of the night and everything is fine, or it makes everything worse. In this particular example, everything got worse. And if you have ever found yourself in a similar situation, you know that a best friend puking is as good as a shower and a cup of black coffee for a drunk person. I went from feeling sick myself to mom mode in about 20 seconds.

On our way up to my room, we stumbled across JumpSki. Now, at the time he was 28. Much older than the average student at BADA, but he was just as plastered as any one of them. This does make me think that perhaps it was not just the young age of everyone there… maybe there really is something in the water in Europe. JumpSki was like I have never seen him, and he was one of my closest friends. JumpSki had driven me home and held me up more than once in our past partying endeavors, so it was quite the surprise for me to find him in such a state. But what else could I do? I threw his arm over my other shoulder and led him up to my room.

Now, I have to take a minute to explain my room here. It was huge. Please take note of the pictures I have included. This college was built in 1212 by a group of magical gnomes. Well, that’s a lie, but it was magical.

My room was on the third and top floor. The winding stairway up to the third floor was cement and echoing like you would imagine a castle. And then of course my room was equally as imaginative; tall ceilings, fireplace, large open space, iron windows. It was beautiful.

In all these rooms there was a small sink. I tell you this because once we got in the room, both JumpSki and MacTen needed to use the sink at once. Luckily, an admirer of JumpSki’s and all around brilliant Irish lass, CrazyBuckley, came in at just that moment and was able to usher JumpSki to the bathroom in time. I, however, was left with MacTen and the sink.

This moment, and MacTen will confirm it, sealed our friendship forever. There is no way I will not love this girl for my whole life after what came next.

Vomit.

Lots and lots of vomit. Into the sink, yes, but just a little, no! And for some reason, she had to have the water running. I tried to turn it off, as it was filling the sink just as quickly with water as she was filling it with her dinner, but she insisted- between gags- that it be left on. And so it was. But this left me with somewhat of a terrible predicament. The sink was filling and there was no sign of letting up. There was only one thing to do, and I only had about 2 seconds to think about it…

Yes, I had to scoop the puke.

It was either that, or let it over flow onto the carpet. And if I let that happen, I would still have to clean it up and my room had a much higher chance of smelling like puke the remainder of the night, so yes, I decided to scoop. I am not ashamed. It was horrible, but I would do it all over again for her. Sorry to be graphic but once I got the chunks out of the drain, the rest kind of went down easier. And before long it was over… well… not exactly.

Shortly after this a series of events unfolded very quickly. A cute boy- the brother of one of my classmates whom I had been flirting with that night- came looking for me and I could do nothing but put him in charge of MacTen while I went in search of more towels. I peeked in at JumpSki, but he was in good hands with CrazyBuckley, so I tried to sneak into my hall mates room to steal some of her towels.

I opened her door, the light from the hall lit up her dark bed just in time for me to witness her throwing up into her garbage can. Shit. So I went inside, soothed her until she fell back asleep and then proceeded back to my room with the stolen towels. No sooner had I returned, did cute boy take off for good. But then, just as I was getting MacTen settled into the nice bed of towels I had made her under the sink, in comes her crush of the summer and up goes MacTen. It was as if she had never filled my sink. She was ready to rejoin the party, no problem. She doesn’t remember this part, but luckily neither does the guy. He too had been overserved.

MacTen finally passed out.

I moved to the bathroom with JumpSki. I must have spent a good hour in there with CrazyBuckley, while JumpSki apologized over and over again, not really sure if it were me or Buckley he was hanging onto. And as our bathroom was communal, and we occupied it for most of the night, we got the occasional head popping in to fill us in on the goings on of the rest of the students. As it turned out, most everyone was in rare form, and bad shape.

After a lot of coercion, I convinced Jump to leave the safety and security of the cement bathroom floor, as much fun as I was having in there, and brought him to my bed of towels to snuggle MacTen. Finally, the night was through. I slept in my bed, while my two drunk friends cuddled on the floor under the sink.

The next morning was… well… interesting. There were a lot of headaches and a lot of garbage, and unfortunately for the janitor, a lot of dried excrement everywhere. But it was also the day we all had to say goodbye… One of the harder days of my life I might add. Letting go of a summer like that, an experience like that, is not easy. The people you meet and the people you share that experience with are with you forever in a way. MacTen and I became the friends that we are because of that summer, but she was not the only one…

I had met another brilliant friend that summer: Will.

He doesn’t get a nickname. I have never seen him since, but I still count him in my best friends and because that summer was so huge in shaping me into the person I am today, he was a huge part of that as well. He was in my class and across the hall. I spent nearly every moment of that month with him and I got to know him better than most. When I think back to that July of ’05, I remember a lot of work. I remember endless studying and reading and never taking any shortcuts… always doing all the work. But I also remember hours and hours of conversation with Will and MacTen. I remember going to clubs. I remember trips to London, the bombings of London, and I remember scooping puke out of my sink. Truthfully, I don’t know how we fit it all in. But isn’t that always the sign of a truly good time?

So that morning, we all said our goodbyes. Looking back, I think those Brits are onto something, getting us all so drunk the night before we all leave each other. Everyone was so hung over and so worried about the brightness of the sun and catching their next mode of travel, that no one really spent too much time crying over those goodbyes. It was kind of just quick, like a band-aid.

It’s funny to think that that amazing program ended just that way, but it did. Random? I don’t know. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe I didn’t get to say all the goodbyes that I would have said, but who needs goodbyes? I was right where I was supposed to be, right Mac? I think so…

Mac, Me and Jump: