How and where we met is completely irrelevant to the story I am about to tell, although in some ways it is the most important part of the story. In order for him to remain anonymous I must resist the impulse to go on in flowery terms about how we met and how beautiful the scenery was, just know that we met in paradise although whether it was a physical or emotional paradise you will never know. I met him, and I HATED him. The first few hours that we spent together, I spent wishing he would quit trying to get me into bed. Then we went outside for a smoke, and ended up taking a walk. We talked about everything except for why I was so bitter. He would throw out a flirtatious line and I would cut him down with some smart ass comment that has become my specialty. Finally after a few hours he just laid it out and asked,” Who fucked you over, and what did they do.” That was the beginning of our story. I broke down and told him everything. I told him that it was my 21st birthday and the guy I had spent most of my life had called me and I was upset and I missed him. He held my while I cried and he told me that I was beautiful when I cried, and only deserved to be happy. That was it, I was hooked.
On New Years Eve, two days later, we went to a party with a bunch of his friends. He was so cute introducing me to everyone that would listen long enough as “his girlfriend” and talking about how special I was. After a while he started acting funny, and went and sat in a chair on the patio to smoke. I went and sat in his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and asked him why he was acting funny. He pulled out his phone, which really confused the hell out of me, and started typing away on it. When he was done, he showed me the screen and these words were there, “I think I have fallen in love with you” and I text him back, “I love you too.” A few weeks later, he asked me if I would marry him. I said yes, but even then I was unsure. I remember calling my best friend and asking, “What have I done?” This is where the story takes a turn.
One night he went out with his friends, and I didn’t hear from him the next day. He called from a friend’s phone late the next afternoon and said that he had too much to drink and had lost his phone. I was upset but there wasn’t much that I could say, until someone called me from his phone and my world was turned upside down. She told me her name and asked if I was his sister. I told her that I was his fiancee and asked how she got his phone. She told me that he had left his phone at the bar, and that she had seen him leave with someone that is a known prostitute in the area. At first I was stunned and didn’t believe her. How could I? I love him and wanted to think nothing but the best of him. She then proceeded to send me pictures of him and other girls and texts from his phone to and from other girls that were completely inappropriate for a man that is planning on getting married. I was crushed. I proceeded to call him at work on his friend’s phone and give him a cussing the likes of which he has never had before. I then proceeded to drink myself into peaceful oblivion.
For most people that would have been the end of things, but I truly did love him. I never found out whether or not he did go home with a hooker. I forgave him, but I couldn’t forget. That act wasn’t the actual end of the relationship although it was the end. We stayed together for four more months but I realized that although I could forgive, I could not forget. We stayed in touch and stayed friends even though at times it broke my heart to hear of his rampant escapades. We were undeniably best friends and had a bond that some people never get to experience in their lifetime, and then the fall came. He met a girl, and although he tried to keep the fact hidden from me, he eventually was forced through circumstance to tell me of her existence. That’s right readers, she was pregnant. I will never forget the night that he called to tell me. The desire for a child is something that we both share. We both have baby fever, and the desire for a family had bonded us together. He was torn between being happy he was going to be a father, and sad that it wasn’t me. We both stayed up for hours talking and crying. I knew then that in a way, he was lost to me no matter what the outcome.
We continued to be friends and although I was happy for him, it broke my heart. And then something changed everything, in the blink of an eye she lost the baby, they started fighting, and then they got married. He tried to keep it from me, but we had too many friends in common for me not to find out. For a few weeks nothing changed, and then as if a switch was turned, he began implying that I was a home wrecker and went as far as to write on a friend’s facebook that I had left him because he was in the military. He even implied to a friend that I was a slut and had been the biggest mistake of his life. Once again I was left heartbroken by the boy with the most beautiful green eyes that I have ever seen. At the date of this posting it has been close to a month since I have spoken to him, and I miss my friend terribly. I miss the person that understood me because he knew my deepest secrets, and kept some of the same ones himself. I didn’t write this post to bad mouth a lost love, I wrote it as a source of catharsis. I have carried this pain for too long and I will be leaving its body here in the contents of this story, and carrying them with me no longer.
All my love,
Brandy A.
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