Mr. The One

I liked him from the first day I set my eyes on him at a mere 15 years old of age. It felt like a scene from a movie, a really cheesy teen movie, where the girl and guy see each other across a crowded event center and undoubtedly end up falling in love.

I tried to ask my friend about him- who he was, where was he from, was he single? She said she would introduce me. So all of a sudden, I’m standing next to him, staring into his big green eyes, and I never felt so giddy and awkward at the same time. He takes me hand, gives it a light shake, and tells me his name. I answer with “SUP” and follow that up with an assertion that I have to go to the restroom. A disaster.

I’ve become better at these things since then, you might be glad to know.

But at that time, we were together for only a weekend. I lived in a different town, about 4 hours away, and was only briefly passing though his town. We would sit by each other at lunch. He was shy. He would sit down and stare at me when I wasn’t looking. I would ask him all sorts of questions and he would reluctantly answer, then smile. We couldn’t stop smiling.

By the last day of that weekend he still hadn’t asked for my number. So I wrote it down along with my email and screen name (those were the aim days…) and secretly dropped it inside the pocket of his jeans when he wasn’t paying attention. I felt that even if I never did see or speak with him again, at least I did my part in the grand scheme of things.

I heard from him the day after I left. We were both still in high school so we would plan messenger dates online, usually at nine o’clock at night, after we had both done our homework, and we would spend hours chatting. It was so exciting, there was so much to know about each other… and then a few months later I found out that I would be moving to his side of town and would be living only a half-hour away.

A month before I moved, he asked me to be his girlfriend. An E-card with pretty hearts that danced on my computer screen… I replied with a personalized one that simply said YES.

I realize now how hard it was, even in the beginning, to say no to him.

One month, two months, three months went by… every month he’d remember our anniversary- the third. He would always give me something- a flower, a ring, chocolates, a card. I loved that he did that. He treated me so well. It was no wonder we were in love a few months later… I went to his prom, he went to my prom. He threw me birthday parties, I cooked him dinners and went to his soccer games. We’d talk about everything- I’d call him if I had a bad day, he’d tell me when he was upset about something. It was wonderful. I knew I had something special, someone that truly loved me for who I was and who adored me. He used to bring me soup when I was sick and one thing I will never forget- leaving me a flower on my windshield on a random day, which I found just before I left for school.

It was easy to have this vision of us together forever. Getting married, having children… I wanted it all with him.

But then time passed. The 15 year olds we were when we fell in love turned into 18, then 19 year olds. I moved away to attend college and we started a long distance relationship. It was hard to say the least.. I was studying a lot and he was 5 hours away. He sometimes came down twice a month to see me, but it was a sacrifice for both of us- I had to do all my work ahead of time so I’d have time for him on the weekend, and he would drive the long distance to be with me for only one or two days. But still, we made it work somehow. Or at least we did for a while. He would send me roses on our anniversaries still and make all the girls in my dorm jealous. We would talk every night, even if just to say good night. And sometimes we’d plan weekend getaways. When I was with him, I forgot about everything else and I was genuinely happy.

And then, the summer after my first year of college, it was all gone. A sudden call after a few days of him being weird.. .I knew him inside out and it was so easy to tell when there was something wrong with him.

But this time, I didn’t know what was wrong. I couldn’t figure it out.

He told me he was confused- that he didn’t know what he wanted anymore, that he needed a break… so I gave him a few days to think it over, and a few days later, his confusion took over any love that ever existed between us.

Suddenly there was no one to call and say good night to, there were no roses, no visits, no phone calls… But above all, I missed my best friend.

I grieved for a few days. But I was always the kind of girl that said I would never let a guy destroy me. I kept telling myself it wasn’t the end of the world, that I deserved better, and all that other stuff girls tell themselves to make them feel better after a break up. Once I went back to school in the fall, I would sit around with my girlfriends and make lists of all the reasons why he was never good enough for me. We would laugh thinking of things and then they would leave, and I would cry alone. It sounds so emo now. But I was strong. I never called him after he broke up with me, I never wrote him…

By the time Christmas came around, he got in touch with me. It started with just meeting up for dinner to talk… I was reluctant to go because I was finally starting to feel better again without him, but I told myself I would go and listen to what he had to say. You know, let him explain himself.

I gave him a hard time. I showed up business like, a serious expression on my face. I made sure we had the most uncomfortable dinner ever and when he said goodbye and asked if we could be friends, I said I could maybe try. So slowly we started talking again, and by the time February came around, we were back on as a couple.

The next few months were the best.

He was doing everything he used to do that I loved but 10 times better. I could tell he felt bad for giving up on us the way he had, and more than that, I felt that he really appreciated me, more than before.

But that didn’t last long.

This story is so long. There are so many things and issues and factors involved… young love cannot possibly survive without the hard work of two growing beings, and in the end, I was the only willing to fight for us.

He gave up. He gave up on our history, on our love, but the most painful of all, he gave up on me. I never felt more unwanted before.

And it all ended with an email, the day before Valentine’s day. Bullshit excuses of why he didn’t want to put forth the effort to be with me anymore- he was young, he lived in a house with his friends, he wanted to enjoy his youth… but he loved me, and this was the hardest decision he ever had to make.

I felt like it was such a joke for him to tell me he loved me at the end of that email.

After so many years, a breakup through an email? I wasn’t even worth a face-to-face explanation, a pretend last night of passion, nothing. Just lies frozen on a cold computer screen.

I couldn’t believe this was really how it all was going to end. The beautiful story I had of us in my head just came crashing down. Fairytales really didn’t exist. There was no guy who could really ever love anyone as much as I thought he loved me after all…

And still, when it came down to decision time, I would have chosen him. I would do almost anything for him. Not because I was stupid, not because I needed him (I had survived the break up, after all), not because I was afraid to be alone or because I hated being alone- even with him, I had always been independent.

No. I would have chosen him. I would have chosen to keep fighting for our love. Because that’s just what you do when you truly love someone.

But it didn’t matter. Love has to be reciprocated.

I felt my heart breaking. Literally felt the pain of it coming apart. For months I dealt with it, crying myself to sleep for some time, lashing out my anger and disappointment on any other poor soul that was foolish enough to fall in my trap. I tried to pretend I was happy, that I was fine. And I failed miserably at times.

Time went by. And time healed most things, some more than others.

Today I’m finally able to start thinking about dating and being involved in a relationship with someone again, Needless to say, I’m still scared to give my heart away. So many times I don’t let anyone close enough to really get to know me, really get to see me for who I am. This I don’t do in fear that they won’t like what they see, but rather that they will just take advantage of what they find within me.

My heart is big, my love enormous. One person alone can tell you this. Well, outside of my family and very close friends, of course.

Today I’m able to see how the way I think and approach relationships were largely influenced by my experiences with him- some wonderful, some not so great. But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? To learn about who you are, who you could be, and who you will never be.

I may no longer be in love with him.

But regardless of all the pain he brought me in the past, he was also the reason for many, many smiles.

And for that, I will always love him.

Gia.

Mr. Prince Charming

He was a quarter African American. He was a singer songwriter and an amazing dancer. His voice reminded me of Justin Timberlake, but the soulful J.T., not the pop star.

It is no wonder that we became good friends the moment we met, freshmen year in college. We both lived in the same dormitory. We both had significant others then too.

We used to get together and sing. Freestyle, jazz, whatever. I would listen to his songs and he would critique mine- it was wonderful to meet someone who, at times, felt like the boy version of me.

Two years after we met, we both became single. We found comfort in each other since both our break ups had not been our decision. We used to meet for lunch after class on the days we had Political Science together (we even shared the same major) and eventually I told him I had feelings for him. He cut me off short, saying that he didn’t want to be the rebound boy.

I left it at that. We remained friends and after a year or so, we were both still single. For some unknown reason, we started to hang out more. One night we went out drinking to celebrate my 21^st birthday. We danced together all night, clearing the dance floor of every bar and club we went in- there was no denying our chemistry and our passions were stamped on our faces and it exploded out of our fingertips, hips… During one of our dance numbers, we ended up kissing. And the rest of the night, we kissed a lot.

I saw him in class the next morning and we talked things over- did we have something? Was it just a kiss or should we try to take things further? He was not the kind of guy to kiss someone and pretend nothing ever happened- you see, he was the kind of person that did everything with passion, that thought everything meant something- I loved that about him.

We started dating shortly after. He was the most sensitive and wonderful guy I’ve ever been with. He understood me in ways no one has, mainly because we were so alike. I could talk with him without fear of being judged or misunderstood and he made me want to be a better person, as cheesy as that might sound.

But he was still a virgin.

Not that this bothered me. I appreciated his morals and his decision to save himself for marriage. I myself had tried to do the same thing a few years back (but I failed. Miserably). He used to come over and watch movies and it almost always ended with the movie watching us.

And then one night, in the heat of the moment, Ryan offered to let me give him oral sex- that he was willing to “give me that”.

I almost laughed out loud.

I think I kinda knew then we weren’t going to work out. He was so naïve… The way I had been before I had become so disillusioned with everything. Still, I didn’t want to corrupt him. Or tell him that he was partly living in his head and that his ideals were just that- fictions that didn’t’ actually translate to real life. He deserved better. I wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it for him.

We were together officially for a month. My feelings for him, which were so strong at the beginning, faded away. I couldn’t stand that I had found a perfect guy and had just lost interest. So much for the theory of prince charming…

Prince Charming is perfect. But he’s also boring. And possibly a virgin.

I know for sure he is still singing his little heart out and driving the girls wild. I’m not sure if he’s still a virgin. But something inside of me hopes he is. Or that he found someone worthy to give that gift to.

So here’s to you, my little virgin boy! Thank you for teaching me that as perfect as someone may be, sometimes they are just not perfect for you.

I hope one day you find the one who will only have more and more interest in you as time goes by.

Until then, let’s dance!

Love,

Gia.

Mr. Just-Another-Disappointment

He is not worthy of being written about. Still, I’ll give him, and the others like him, a few lines.

Cowards, jerks, assholes, players- whatever you want to call them. Boys in men’s bodies, little children who try to dabble in the affairs of love. Or something like it.

Girls, we know them well- the guy that appears out of nowhere and promises you the world. I don’t know why I keep falling for it. By now you’d think I’d know better… But at least now I can get over it faster than before.

Still, after it’s all over, I look at it from the retrospect and think to myself: how did I possibly not see this coming? Really, I suppose in the end, I’m the one to blame for being so stupid. For ignoring the signs that were in front of me all along. For wanting to see someone that wasn’t there, for wanting to be to someone else something I never was and never would be.

Sometimes things are just what they seem.

I could write bitter words for pages. For days. But at the end of the day, he’s just another disappointment, just another lie, just another waste of my time and emotions.

I hope you had your fun.

No love,

Gia.