In 6th grade I had a girlfriend who dumped me for an older guy. I was heartbroken, but it didn’t phase my desire for another one. I spent much of my time in junior high and later years trying to impress girls, but I failed to snag another GF until late in my senior year.
By then I was a needy, lonely male animal. And I fell really hard for a gorgeous girl who was a year younger. My impending departure from the civilian world a month after graduation made our relationship even more intense and hyper-romantic.
Unfortunately, she also happened to be my BFF’s ex-GF. Thus I was forced, initially, to choose between my loyalty to him and my hormones. Let me assure you, deciding what to do required a lot of soul searching for several seconds.
Their breakup was tumultuous. Lots of tears all around. Her heart was literally being torn in two, and her parents were naturally very concerned about her. In the heat of it, I just learned, her mother offered her some advice.
I got a pkg in the mail recently from my high school GF, filled with pics I took and letters I wrote between 1976 and 1983. She’s in the middle of moving, and she reached out to see if I wanted them. I said "Yes, please," though with a bit of angst. (I was a bit of a cad back then.) (Really. No, REALLY.)
It is a testament to her character, by the way, and to her husband’s character, that these items have been allowed to remain undisturbed in a shoebox all these years. But I digress...
When she was trying to decide whether to go back with him or move fwd with me, her mom said, “You laugh a lot more often with Dave.” And so, she ended up choosing me.
We remained a couple for another year or so, before life took us in different directions, but it’s heartwarming to know that all my clowning around back then wasn’t a total waste of time. In fact, I think those words would make a great epitaph.
