She writes in chapters the love story of her and her husband. I sat and read the entire thing early this morning while I was feeding Trace. I was captivated! It's such a great story, and she's not done writing. (Whitney, get writing!! :)) It got me thinking that I should write down my story with Dave. If for no other reason than I don't want to forget. Rory and Trace can have a record of what happened long after we are both gone. You should all
do this...then send me the link so I can read it. I am a sucker for a love story! I apologize in advance for my long, wordy, over descriptive entries. My history, my way I guess. :) So...without further adieu, I give you Chapter One.
In high school, I had a really serious boyfriend. We dated for almost 3 years. We started dating when I was a sophomore and didn't finally end things until I was in college. It was, to put it kindly, a trying relationship. I was entrapped in the idea that I had to have a boyfriend. I equated a relationship with success, looking back. I measured my level of high school success by how long my relationship could last, regardless of the really not so nice stuff that was going on. This is the root of my ongoing battle with depression. I am winning now, I certainly wasn't then.
I was, for all intents and purposes, the poster child of a Type A High School Girl. I was Class Vice President, Spanish Club President, wrote for the school newspaper, member of National Honor Society, on the Science Olympiad team, plus took dance class three nights a week and taught 10 classes a week at the studio. I waitress-ed at the Country Club on the weekends. I choreographed the community musical. Type A, controlling, over involved, stressed out and ready to crash.
This is important to know, because I relied too much on the boyfriend to make me feel worth something. I really didn't have time for a boyfriend but refused to go that route because I saw being in a relationship as one more sign of success. My thinking was so far off.
I broke up with my boyfriend in the spring of my senior year. I just couldn't take it anymore, so I thought. The Prom was coming up and I went with my absolute best guy friend, Andy. He was part of my trio. He, myself and my best girl friend, Allie, were inseparable. Andy and I had all 4 classes together that spring semester. He and Allie were gifts to me. (They still are. :)) I remember so clearly a few nights before the prom, the ex-boyfriend (ex at this point) calling me and accusing me of cheating on him (ex boyfriend, remember) by going to the prom with Andy. Excuse me, but he's my best friend. We were like brother and sister! We were going with a group of friends for fun. The route of the issue was the ex-boyfriend was terribly insecure and couldn't deal with me going to the prom with someone else. I had the best time at prom, with Andy and all of my friends. Relaxed and fun, just like a prom should be. (I wish I had pictures scanned in to my computer, my dress was so HUGE AND PUFFY!)
After the prom, a bunch of my friends went back to my house to relax and guess who showed up. Yep, the ex-boyfriend. I felt so bad for him that shortly after, we ended up getting back together. We stayed together through my senior dance recital and on in to the summer.
We broke up again during the month of July and stayed apart for a while. He showed up, unannounced, at the opening night of my summer musical. Thankfully, my mom was the director and my sister was in the show so there was no chance he was talking to me! :) I didn't see him again until he came to visit me at college one night. No details, but after that night at college, I never saw or spoke to him again.
My freshman year of high school, I "dated" several guys, one or two dates max. Nothing serious, all just fun. I had missed out on this part of high school and I was determined not to be tied down. I had a group of guy friends that I hung out with at school that prevented me from getting too serious. I liked my friends so much more than any of the guys I went out with, so in the end the friends won. ;)
Freshman year ended and I was happier than I'd been in a really long time. I loved college, had made some fantastic friends and was really looking forward to returning in the fall. Our summer musical arrived and well...umm...I don't know how to put this kindly.
(Godpsell, 2004...I'm on the far right, in a black dress)
Oh goodness, I can't even go there with what went on this summer. hahaha It's too much, it needs it's own entire blog. Let's just say I had a showmance.
Summer ended, my heart was once again ripped in a million pieces, trying to leave part of myself at home, trying to be excited to go back to school. I was so DRAMATIC about the whole thing. (An open apology to all my friends and family who had to deal with me at this time, special shout out to mom and Jesse. Sorry about that. Ugh.)
History part 2, tomorrow.