You know you’ve done it. You’re sitting around bored out of your mind, when a random memory pops into your head, causing you to start typing the ghosts of boyfriends past into the Google search bar. You don’t do that? Oh… Well, I do. But then again, I’m super nosey. So, today when “that” boyfriend popped into my head I Googled him. In fact, I Googled the Hell out of that boy! He was the one who felt it necessary to seek me out, make me his girlfriend and then proceeded to walk all over me for a few of my precious teenage years. The boy who, for some reason or another I allowed to get away with it. Didn’t we all have one of those in our dating repertoire?
I have to admit, over the years I have on occasion wondered what he looks like now. I’ve pondered where he is and what he has done with his life since my unfortunate (for him) departure. After all, he was that boy. He was my first (entirely one-sided and kind of obsessive teenage) “love”. The first one I foolishly envisioned as my future husband, whose name I scribbled on my notebooks, whose phone calls I waited for throughout my senior year. Those calls that he promised that caused me to miss out on real friends and fun times. He was the boy who got off on maintaining control at all times. He liked knowing that I was home waiting for him. He would break my heart, then come crawling back with flowers and false professions of love. He was good at it. He made me mixed tapes of 70’s and 80’s super ballads. He was a boy who had the best family, but who truly sucked. I’d like to say that if I could go back I’d act differently, but he was my first broken heart. He was necessary and let’s face it, I was a dumb sucker. I was that chick who made you want to kick her in the ass and yell, “get over it, he’s a complete dick!” If I could go back, I’d give myself a kick in the ass and then go throw eggs at his car.
But he was just so adorable! Those rosy cheeks and that pretty boy face that I’ve always been a sucker for. He was athletic and charming (sociopathic tendencies). He cheated and lied, but I always let it go. I was (an idiot) addicted. More than once, he emotionally tortured an elderly man in my presence. He’d tell me he didn’t love me anymore, but call me days later claiming that he was wrong and I was his everything. He’d beg me to come back and I always fell for him.
I will admit that my mom and I stood silently gawking at his present day photo, marveling at the man he has become. Our faces must have looked shocked and confused as we looked at the photo, searching it for a glimmer of the cocky, handsome jerk he once was. Okay, perhaps dissolving into belly laughs was uncalled for, but I for one couldn’t help myself. We laughed so hard that it drew my husband into the room. Even he stopped to marvel over the photo of this man who was once “that boy” who broke my heart.
So, boy turned paunchy dude with weird facial hair and square bangs…here’s to you. Thanks for helping me grow and become a woman. Thanks to your need to engage in outright rude and borderline sociopathic behavior, I was able to get you out of the way early on. I wasn’t forced to suffer through my 20’s like so many friends did, hoping to run into you in a bar somewhere and have a desperate broken-hearted sex. Nope, for once I was wise enough to run like the wind and left you behind up there in that mountainous region. I flew the coop and headed back south where I met another tragic story. But hey, at least you claim that you were the first…er, tragic story.