Thursday, April 18, 2013

'The Worst Part (Of a Broken Heart)'

Once I got to England, I discovered how vicious & ridiculous military boys could be.  The base I was at was incredibly small, & the boys swarmed after the new girls like flies.  I mean, it was pitiful.  I got there in August, & by October, I'd met the first person who would really & truly rip my heart out & stomp on it.

He was older than me.  4 years I think?  He'd been in England for awhile, & he played guitar.  He was in a little band with some of the other guys there & I thought he was amazing.

Now that I look back on it, I can't remember many details of our relationship.  He was the first boy I gave myself completely to.

We only dated for like six months.  It felt like so much longer & I spent every waking moment thinking of him.  He (being older & douchier) probably didn't have the same love for me, having been more experienced & just being different.

I guess it got to be too much for him.  We were always together, we practically lived in each other's barracks rooms (in the barracks there you could do whatever you wanted- there was no place to sign in, you could smoke in your room, etc.) & were always together.

Apparently I was too sarcastic for him, too blunt, too much of a bitch, too outspoken, etc.  One night we went to the NAF (the English bar on base) with a group of friends & were (seemingly) having a good time.  I guess we weren't, because afterwards we went back to my room & laying on my bed in the dark, he broke up with me.  Let out this big sigh & I'm like, "what's wrong?"  He said, "you don't want to know."  "Of course I want to know, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." "I don't think this is going to work out."  

I sat there, stunned.  I gathered what was left of my pride, put out my cigarette, & said, "I think you should leave."

For months after that, I was the most pitiful girl you can imagine.  I cried my way through work most days- once or twice the dentist I worked for even sent me home because I was crying so hard I couldn't hand him instruments.  I was a far cry from the "tough" girl people see now.  I cried myself to sleep every night, wrote him letters about how we were meant to be, showed up at this door practically begging him to take me back, until finally, my granny called me one night & said, "let this be the last night you cry over that boy."

It was.  

I have no idea what ever happened to him.  I have no hard feelings & I certainly am not bitter over the ending of our relationship- it was YEARS ago.  I guess in a way I'm thankful for him for showing me how bad it could really be- I'm not sure my heart was ever broken that badly again.

& then I did the heartbreaking when I started dating a truly great guy afterwards.

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