The Exes

So, I have a few exes...yes, we’ll say “few.” They’ve each meant something different to me, and they are important parts of my PAST. Those relationships helped me become the loving, honest, open, and caring wife I am today. Here’s a recap:

The very first high school boyfriend
The obsessive, abusive high school boyfriend
The wishy-washy college-aged boyfriend
The very first college boyfriend
The passionate love of my 20s
The fiancé


The very first high school boyfriend:
So very harmless and silly. We were too young to actually go out on dates. We wrote notes to each other in class. We held hands in the hall. We went to one school dance together. We never kissed. We never made out. We didn’t make it very long. We remained friends for a very long time, and I still have casual contact with him. Our parents attend church together, and we might see each other on a random holiday. I loved him as much as my little freshman heart could love someone. We attended different colleges but still managed to hang out a few times. I tried so very much to reconnect with him romantically. Hindsight is 20/20, and there was no way he and I were meant to be. We were good for each other, sure, but I’m not his type. When I realized this, I saw images and moments in my head that then clicked and made everything clearer. I still think he’s an awesome guy. He taught me to be myself, even if he doesn’t realize that.

The obsessive, abusive high school boyfriend:
This was not harmless. Luckily, it did not last long. Older than me and with a truck, we did go out on dates. We walked together in the halls, we wrote notes to each other, and we spent time together on band trips. More and more, he became very overbearing. I couldn’t spend time with friends. I couldn’t talk to them on the phone. I became withdrawn. I thought he loved me. I had no idea anything that was happening was wrong because I didn’t let myself see it. I had a miserable time at prom. A few weeks later, my mom and my best friend had an intervention. They made me realize that he was too controlling, and he was hurting me. I laughed it off at first, but when they pointed out a bruise on the backside of my arm, it started sinking in. The bruise was not from my flag during color guard practice. My flag did not have a hand that could leave a mark with four distinct finger marks. I broke up with him. Immediately. Over the phone. I just told him that I didn’t really have feelings for him anymore. He stalked me for a while. Showing up at my locker between classes. When I asked him what he was doing, he asked, “What, just because we broke up we have to completely change our lives and not spend time together?” I said, “Yes. That’s exactly what it means.” I don’t still speak with him. I have no idea where he is or what he is doing, and I am fine with that. He taught me to stand up for myself and to not turn a blind eye to bad things happening to me.


The wishy-washy college-aged boyfriend:
To be fair, he’s not really wishy-washy. He’s a great guy. His dating habits when we were together, however, were wishy-washy. We originally met when I was just in junior high. We started dating at the end of his senior year, which was the end of my sophomore year. We went out on dates to the movies, to an amusement park, to dinners, etc. We had a great time. We dated kind of on-and-off, mostly during summers since he went to college so far away. He didn’t make it to my junior prom because “he couldn’t get home.” I went alone. He couldn’t make it to my senior prom because “he couldn’t get home.” I didn’t even go. I pined over him. We wrote letters and postcards. Right before I was going to college and he was home for the summer, he let me have it. “You didn’t think we were exclusive, did you? I mean, I’ve been dating other girls at school,” he said. I was crushed. Um, yeah – I thought we were exclusive. I didn’t even realize at the time that dating could be non-exclusive. Eventually, after a few more failed attempts, he moved on and I moved on. I’ve lost touch with him, but not for lack of trying on my part. Like I said, I think he’s a great guy. He taught me that honesty is a key to a good relationship.


The very first college boyfriend:
Oh man, did this guy do a number on me. He was my first real love. I was head over heels in no time at all. He began the relationship a little distant, a little secretive. I was the clingy one this time. He had my by a string, and he could jerk that string any which way he wanted because he knew I'd follow along. There was another girl in between our on-and-offs. He went back and forth between us. The first time we broke up, I was fine. He came back and wanted to start right back up. I let him know that we couldn't just pick up where we left off. On again, off again, on again, off again for about 10 years... I'd be ready for something serious, but not him. He'd want to move in and get married in the moment, but not me. He broke my heart big time in the end. I was confused and wounded and sure I wouldn't find anybody else like him. I gave him my everything, and he left me empty. I reconnected with him after almost another 10 years, and we chat occasionally as friends. We've both moved on -- I moved on to better things while he moved on with that other girl. He taught me that true love is hard work and both people have to be willing to put in the hours.


The passionate love of my 20s:
This one. Oh, man this one. He rocked my world up one side and down the other. We were best friends. We spent countless hours together. We took weekend trips together. We were writing soul mates. We went on one real date. One. Ever. Sure, we went out other times – lunch, dinner, concerts with other friends. Mostly we stayed in, watched movies, read stories to each other, and things. I make the best ham sandwich he’s ever eaten. I wanted him to love me so much. He always did love me, just not the way I wanted him to. We were on-and-off, as well. For many, many years. In fact, the last time we were “on” was not long before I met my now-husband. I pined over him each time. He gave me reason to pine then he’d take it back. I cried and cried over him. I wanted more. He was happy with what we had. We were each other’s in-between. When whatever relationship we had been in was over, we’d be drawn back to each other. We were passionate. We were hot. We were amazing together. We just weren’t together the way a couple should be. I can’t begin to put into words here all the many life lessons and shared moments I had with that man. I am still in touch with him. We are both married now, and he has two little boys. We learned a lot from each other. I taught him that love is important and strong. He taught me how to be free with myself.


The fiancé:
Nope. Not my husband. The other fiancé. I fell hard for the uniform. The Army guy with a heart of gold. We met in a bar so I am not sure how I thought that was forever-kind-of-love, but I gave it a shot. We had similar interests, we could have great conversations, and we had both experienced heart break. I was drawn to the fact that he was close to getting out of the service and was not from Tennessee. He was drawn to the fact that I was almost done with college and would pick up and move anywhere. He proposed. I said yes. We moved to Chicago. He got a job. I got a job. We got a condo. Bad-with-money faults aside, he is a good person. He just does stupid $h!t. I’m not telling you anything I have not told him. I woke up one morning, very cliché, and said to myself, “What am I doing? I am not happy.” It hit me like a whirlwind. We called off the engagement. We decided to give it a year and then see where things were. When I finally had the gumption, I moved out. We still spent time together – I didn’t know anybody in Chicago, really. After that year, we had dinner and then had a talk. I was ready to try again, but I let him speak first. He was not ready to try again. He liked where he was in his life and didn’t want to change it then. I was stunned, but I knew it was ultimately for the best. We realized that I fell in love with the fact that he could get me out of Tennessee and he fell in love with the fact that he wouldn’t fall on his face after leaving the Army. We stayed friends still. Old habits. Then he did something so hurtful and stupid that I could see stars through my instant headache. I’m not one to blast bad info on someone, so I’ll just say that he sealed the fate of us never having a relationship again, and it had nothing to do with anybody but the two of us. I know where he is. I know how his life is going. He’s married to a nice girl, and they are doing well. I don’t speak to him. I don’t want to. Through my anger and our tears and his apologies and my screaming and my unbearable pain, he taught me to pay attention to the reasons for a relationship and be true to myself and the other person in the relationship.


So that’s it in a nut shell. The exes who have influenced me and made me the woman I am today. My husband should thank them. When I started my relationship with him I vowed to be myself, stand up for myself and tell him how I feel, to be honest with him and myself, to put in the time and hard work to make the relationship last, to be free with myself and approach new experiences with an open mind and heart, and to pay attention to the ins and outs of the relationship to know it is real.