My Life

The first quasi-relationship I had was with a boy named David in the seventh grade. Our epic romance lasted all of 13 days (or maybe it was 8 - we "went out" twice and those were the lengths of time, I just don't remember which is which.) In any case, he dumped me for my best friend, but he had the courtesy of telling me in person and giving me the real reason. Bygones. I was 12.

The first boy who broke my heart was a boy named Brad, also in the seventh grade. He really pissed me off because he had three of his friends call me and break up with me because he was too much of a wuss to do it himself. He made me cry. Bygones. I was 13.

My first love was a boy named Ivan in the 9th grade. We were together (miraculously) for almost 15 months. We were in love. Deeply in love. He broke up with me because he had too much family shit going on and didn't want it to affect me and when he wanted to get back together a month later, I said no because I didn't want to go through that pain, again. That one changed me. But he explained everything respectfully and in detail. I got over it, eventually. I was 16.

I made the mistake of getting involved with my best guy friend in 11th grade. We lasted all of two months...well, three of you count the vague parts. First, we were "dating", then we were a "couple", then I got downgraded to "dating", again. That one was a bit vague, but, again, he was man enough to tell me it was over, although he never explained why to me. Bygones. Love him. I was 17.

I fell in love with a nice boy the summer between freshman and sophomore year of college. He broke my heart. We argued a lot and were always honest in our communication. It still hurt like hell, though. And what made it worse was that we were off and on for two or three years post-break-up. My fault as much as his. Took a long time to get over. He's now married and I'm happy for him. I got over it. Bygones. I was 20...or 23, depending on how you look at it.

So now I'm 30 years old. I met a guy - waaaaay too young. He's 23. And he seemed to like me. And we were talking and texting and talking and texting. And hung out a few times. He was really opening up. And then nothing. I got the brush-off. I didn't even get the brush-off in junior high. Thirteen year olds have better communication skills. Did I miss the memo? OK. It was new. My heart isn't even scratched, although my ego may be a little bruised. It just pisses me off on principle. I don't appreciate being given the brush-off. "Nice" guys are the worst. At least with the bad boys you know what to expect.