And I realize that I'm using my relationship status as a way to identify myself. I don't know if this is a feminist move or not. Maybe I'm claiming it? Owning it? Working it? Or maybe it's a new life that I'm not used to.
It all started 10 years ago...
When I met my first boyfriend who I would date for 8 pretty good years. Things change. People change, and you realize that your paths are going in opposite directions. Later, I also realized how great we both are, but we somehow didn't manage to bring out the best in each other. It's bittersweet, but it's over. I look back on the memories fondly, and I have moved on in a healthy manner.
The real doozy appeared about a year ago...
When I met my second serious(ish?) boyfriend. After breaking up with my first boyfriend (I'm going to digress and let you know that I will give every guy in my love life (ha!) a nickname, so instead of calling my first boyfriend "my first boyfriend," let's call him...Mr. Efficient because he was very good at everything he did. I have no harsh feelings, so I wanted to give him a more positive nickname), I went on Tinder and POF. A month of swiping later I come across my second serious(ish?) boyfriend. We'll call him Sleepy. It's fitting. One time, he fell asleep when his friend and I were at his apartment, and we covered him in Chipotle napkins. Anyway, we met on the winter solstice of 2014. We went on 3 more dates after that, and then, BAM! we were officially dating.
It was a whirlwind, the kind of relationship where you never really get your bearing until one day you fall flat on your face and lie there for days wondering what happened. I guess that's what happens when you have incredibly low expectations on the first date because, well, Tinder, and because you secretly looked him up on Facebook to make sure he's not a serial killer, discover that he has hunting pictures and a Nobama bumper sticker on his truck, and, awkward because you're a vegetarian and have an Obama bumper sticker on your Bug. I wasn't expecting to be hit in the face with a love brick on the first date. It went so well that we made out to Tears for Fears. It was 80s music good.
On top of that, I liked his family and his friends, and I think they liked me. Our relationship was what I felt like was missing in my first relationship. But then one day, it just ended, and I felt like Wile E. Coyote when he runs out of cliff to run on. I didn't expect it at all. The ground was ripped out from under me, and I fell...really fucking hard, just like I fell for him on the first date.
That brings us to now...
After two crazy years full of heart blossom and heart break. I'm just over here trying to make meaning in a world that I don't know if I understand. Jk. I'm just trynna watch as much Netflix as possible before I start up school again AND start student teaching. Also, I feel like my experiences have made me slightly wiser, so here I go, thinking that my brain has something to offer the world. At least I'm good for a laugh.
It all started 10 years ago...
When I met my first boyfriend who I would date for 8 pretty good years. Things change. People change, and you realize that your paths are going in opposite directions. Later, I also realized how great we both are, but we somehow didn't manage to bring out the best in each other. It's bittersweet, but it's over. I look back on the memories fondly, and I have moved on in a healthy manner.
The real doozy appeared about a year ago...
When I met my second serious(ish?) boyfriend. After breaking up with my first boyfriend (I'm going to digress and let you know that I will give every guy in my love life (ha!) a nickname, so instead of calling my first boyfriend "my first boyfriend," let's call him...Mr. Efficient because he was very good at everything he did. I have no harsh feelings, so I wanted to give him a more positive nickname), I went on Tinder and POF. A month of swiping later I come across my second serious(ish?) boyfriend. We'll call him Sleepy. It's fitting. One time, he fell asleep when his friend and I were at his apartment, and we covered him in Chipotle napkins. Anyway, we met on the winter solstice of 2014. We went on 3 more dates after that, and then, BAM! we were officially dating.
It was a whirlwind, the kind of relationship where you never really get your bearing until one day you fall flat on your face and lie there for days wondering what happened. I guess that's what happens when you have incredibly low expectations on the first date because, well, Tinder, and because you secretly looked him up on Facebook to make sure he's not a serial killer, discover that he has hunting pictures and a Nobama bumper sticker on his truck, and, awkward because you're a vegetarian and have an Obama bumper sticker on your Bug. I wasn't expecting to be hit in the face with a love brick on the first date. It went so well that we made out to Tears for Fears. It was 80s music good.
On top of that, I liked his family and his friends, and I think they liked me. Our relationship was what I felt like was missing in my first relationship. But then one day, it just ended, and I felt like Wile E. Coyote when he runs out of cliff to run on. I didn't expect it at all. The ground was ripped out from under me, and I fell...really fucking hard, just like I fell for him on the first date.
That brings us to now...
After two crazy years full of heart blossom and heart break. I'm just over here trying to make meaning in a world that I don't know if I understand. Jk. I'm just trynna watch as much Netflix as possible before I start up school again AND start student teaching. Also, I feel like my experiences have made me slightly wiser, so here I go, thinking that my brain has something to offer the world. At least I'm good for a laugh.
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