See your scars as proof that you made it…not evidence that you almost didn’t.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Definition: Curmudgeon

So there was this guy (no, not THE guy), this other guy, from high school. I met him the summer before ninth grade and liked him right away. He was very cute, sweet, funny, smart, did I say cute? He lived in my neighborhood and we…I don’t even know what to say…we would ride bikes and kiss on the golf course, that was really the extent of it. When school started I began dating this other guy, Nick, and Neighborhood guy tried to win me back for a while. I had moved on though, so I didn’t think twice about it. Well, cute boys tend to get cuter as they grow and by our Sophomore year, I was regretting the whole Nick thing. We went back and forth, even during THE guy, and definitely in the aftermath of THE guy. One incident really sticks with me though. Directly after THE guy, I started dating this other fella named Cale. (Yes, that’s where I got the name) Cale was sweet but when he was mad, whoo… you better watch out. One night, we got in a fight and he pushed me into the doorframe of his truck. I’m not sure if he meant to hurt me but I was hurt just the same. The next thing I know, people are telling me Neighborhood guy went and jumped in his face telling Cale he would regret it if he ever laid a hand on me again. At this point, Neighborhood guy and I weren’t even speaking since he was ‘popular’ and thanks to my Wicked Witch of the North (True North reference. Pick it up 10/1/11 to see what I’m talking about) I no longer was. I have no idea how Neighborhood guy found out. Later that year, I may or may not have taken something special from Neighborhood guy, though I admit to nothing. To be honest, I felt like I’d taken advantage of him then, and then again this other time at a party because neighborhood guy has HUGE feet. And you know what they say about boys with big feet. Yeah, big shoes. ;)

After graduation I saw Neighborhood guy a few more times, just as friends. Then he moved. Fast forward about six years to the world of Facebook. Here he is. I’m excited to see him. Friend request him and I get this LOOOONG email that he doesn’t feel like we should be friends out of respect for his wife and that he didn’t treat me the way someone should be treated. I’m utterly dumbstruck reading this then I think okay maybe his wife is a ‘you can’t be friends with old flames’ kind of wife. But when I look on his page, he is friends with old flames. Just not me. So I’m left to wonder where we went wrong and miss him because he was that guy that always got under my skin. He was that friend that would always tell me when I was being ridiculous and apparently, stick up for me, even when I didn’t know about it. I dream about him sometimes and it makes me sad. Like, really, wake up crying sad. I don’t know why. I dreamt about him last night. We were in Alaska with his parents and little sister camping and it was very cold. Totally random, I haven’t thought about him in a while so I don’t know why I dreamt of him last night. It just makes me sad and I wish I knew whatever it was that I did to make it so easy for him to forget me.

You give these little pieces of your heart away all of your life and very rarely do you get them back. I think that’s why old people are so grumpy.


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