Let's time travel back to 2000 shall we? I was 19-years-old, dumb and struggling to break up with my high school boyfriend. I had tried to break it off several times, but he refused to accept my offer. And somehow I failed to realize that while dating is a two way street, breaking up is one way. I call you, I dump you. Done. 19-year-old me was not that bright.
High School Boyfriend ended up insisting he come in town for a family wedding, despite my repeated attempts to break up with him. The night before he was supposed to arrive, I met up with my new college crush. We’d hung out before and nothing had happened. My college roommate, however, had an inkling that College Crush and I were about to get in trouble To prevent this, she took my keycard. This way I had to come home before midnight. Strategy!
I'm sure you can guess where this is going, but to make it short, I didn't come home. I shacked up with College Crush (although we did nothing but kiss, promise! I was still good and chaste at 19!) After a few hours of sleep, I got up and drove the two hours to pick High School Boyfriend up at the airport. We hadn’t seen each other in months and so on the way back to school we got freaky while driving.
Tip: If you are trying to dump your boyfriend, do not get freaky with him in the car! It will confuse them! You’re welcome.
Once back at school, High School Boyfriend refused to stay in my dorm room saying it was “inappropriate.” I saw this as a way to easily avoid more awkward physical interactions and claimed I had to study that night. I left him at the hotel alone. The next morning, he called pissed off. So I skipped my class and went to the mall with High School Boyfriend. While at the mall, I decided College Crush had to think I was crazy because of all the drama and the best way to handle it was buy him a candle.
Because clearly candles make everything better.
Except! Problem: I was with High School Crush at the candle shop. Solution: Tell many, many lies!
Going with the “lie through your teeth” plan, I pretended the candle was for my dorm room and took High School Boyfriend back to the hotel because I had a (pretend) class. On the way back from ditching High School Boyfriend, I dropped a love letter and candle off on College Crush's doorstep. Classy!
After I dropping off the candle I decided I needed to get High School Boyfriend far away from College Crush. So I lied again and made up some reason High School Boyfriend and I had to go home to the family wedding early. We left town as fast I could get High School Boyfriend to pack his bags.
Shockingly, High School Boyfriend had grown suspicious of my erratic behavior over the past few days and pestered me constantly with, “What’s wrong, baby?” I was able to distract him for awhile with my wit and charm. And boobs. Let’s be honest, dude was 20-years-old, I used his overactive hormones against him. Evil? Yes. This is why I was a jerk.
This plan worked for a day or so, but it all came to a head in the middle of my aunt and uncle's reception. I have no idea what set him off, but suddenly High School Boyfriend hit his limit with my jerkiness. And because he had a flair for the dramatic, High School Boyfriend decided to storm off the dance floor mid slow dance. Ah, young love.
Not knowing what else to do, I followed him outside. We proceeded to yell and scream at each other in the Country Club parking lot. He refused to accept my crappy lies any longer and finally I caved and screamed, “I have been trying to break up with you for two months and you won’t let me. So Yes, I kissed College Crush the night before you came in town!” And upon that, High School Boyfriend burst into tears. Right there in the parking lot.
Rather than be sympathetic to his pain upon hearing I made out with another guy, I was pissed. Pissed because he had started to cry. Pissed because I had been trying to break up with him for months and he refused to be broken up with. And most of all pissed because now I looked like the bad guy, despite the fact he had been a less than stellar boyfriend.
I stood there in my bridesmaid dress and watched him cry for a few minutes and made very little effort to console him. After some time had passed and it was clear his waterworks were not over, I panicked. My entire family was inside dancing to the YMCA or something. We had a family brunch the next morning. We had a whole 24 hours left together still. And in a moment of sheer selfishness, I grabbed his shoulders, shook him and hissed, “Suck it up! You will not embarrass me again in front of my family!” And with that, I snatched up his arm, turned on my heel and led us inside where I pretended to be in love with him for the rest of the night. And all through the following day until I dropped him off at the airport curbside check-in. I’m not even sure I got out of the car.
Maybe. I hope I did. But I really don’t think I even did that.