I am an only child. I have one step-sister that was already married, had two babies on her hip and lived three thousand miles away by the time my Pops, step-dad, came into my life, so she was never a part of my life. Both of my parents re-married and never had any more children. All of my cousins were many states away so there were no family gatherings that I attended apart from a yearly road trip for a family reunion for a week in the summer. I am an only child. I grew up alone, learned to entertain myself alone and eventually adapted to doing things, all things, alone. Perhaps that is why I am so opinionated and stubborn and selfish at times. I never had to share, debate, fight for what I wanted, or wear hand-me-down clothes. I know I missed out on a lot. But that is a post for another day.
I have had six great loves in my life. A first love, a high school love, a forbidden love, a married love, a wrong love and a wasted love. Each and everyone of these loves has always returned for more, to work it out, to try again, to rekindle, to hurt. Mostly these loves left me the first time, leaving me wondering what had gone wrong. What had I done? But as with all things, I learned time does heal the hurt and after a while the physical and mental anguish is diminished, and you are capable of understanding what went wrong in your relationships, from both sides. It is called learning. We all do it. We all learn from past loves. Hindsight is 20/20, right? You learn and you become a better person for the next love, you learn what not to do, what to do, how to fight properly, how to make someone feel special, accept their peccadilloes and so on and so forth. Each time you believe you have got it down and are doing everything right and then BAM, something else comes along to teach you another lesson.
It seems that every ten years or so that one great love returns. My first love returned when I was 22, he even asked to marry me, but I had learned my lesson and quite frankly he was not at all the same man (boy) I had loved previously and so my answer was a resounding, "No."
My high school love showed up at my apartment door on his 21st birthday thinking he could use me for a little birthday hanky panky in his drunken state. I agreed to let him stay the night to sleep it off on my couch because I didn't want him driving and was rewarded with an attempted acquaintance rape for my generosity. I managed to fight off his large athletic body from mine thanks to his inebriated state. He was very apologetic in the morning.
I accidently tracked down my forbidden love this past year completely, OK, not completely by sheer coincidence. In this age of social media it is not uncommon to reconnect with people from your past. Some band members I followed in the late 80's and early 90's were suddenly right there on my Facebook page. One of those band members was a great and very forbidden love for me. You see, he was married and although our relationship was restricted to secret phone calls, side-way eye-contact over dancing bodies in a smokey bar six nights a week and well planned out picnics in public, it was still quite the great love for me, probably because it was forbidden and safe. Safe you say? Yes, safe, or so I thought. I didn't think he could hurt me, that was until he choose his wife over me and walked out on the band and my life in my apartment buildings parking lot with his guitar in his hand. I knew he was still married and went into this old is new again relationship with all my good intentions. It had been 25 years after all and I had learned a few things in that time. We chatted over Facebook and text and actually had lunch together once. It was wonderful seeing him again, he indicated the same. However, his wife was not so thrilled about our rekindled friendship. We have not talked since that lunch. Which is a shame because he is an electrical contractor and my house could use some electrical work done.
My married love came back as well after we split up briefly during our second year of marriage, signed on for another three years in the Navy, stayed true to me and his son until I asked for a divorce six years later. The only regret I have in divorcing my husband is the woman that he brought around my son after our divorce. Oy! Again, that is a post for another day.
I allowed the wrong love to return twice try to make amends after having disappeared from our home one day while I was at work; asking me to marry him and then just as quickly as he disappeared from our home the time before he disappeared via email stating he had sold his house and was moving to Colorado to be with someone else. Nine years later he returned again, divorced and apologetic and ready to be scrutinized and tested by my friends and loved ones in a fight to win me back only to be caught lying about something so insignificant that it seems silly now. He has been blocked, deleted and stored away never to be in my sunshine again.
My wasted love, Bryan, well, he is a post all on his own. A charismatic, handsome, intensely sexual, magnetic and narcissistic man that was in and out of my life for 12 years. I can say he came back for more because he was the one that originally, in the beginning, did come back to me, pulled me in, but for any and all future reference, he is not allowed back, EVER.
And now we get to the reason for this post. The reason for a rampage last night on Faceboook. The reason my friends all knew something was wrong.
They came in droves, texting and calling because they recognized that those posts on Facebook were not me, were not normal. I love my friends. Truly I have the best of friends and quite frankly acquaintances as well.
I feel stupid frankly writing these next words because I allowed myself to get caught up in the magic of a long time dream.
to be continued...
