Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Break Up Stories: My Friend The Amazing Kisser

I know Valentine's Day is over, but I still have some stories coming in. This is my own contribution.
Charles was punk. Very. His hair color changed every other day, he played bass, had multiple piercings, and during our brief courtship, got the first of many tattoos. Completely different than any other guy I had ever dated.

We always had so much fun when we were together. We could talk to each other for hours and hours about anything. We naturally assumed that, since we were such bizarrely compatible friends, a romantic relationship would be perfect!

He was a phenomenal kisser. I kept telling him that he needed to teach classes, because God truly gave him a gift, and our gifts should be shared with the world. That always made him laugh. After one of his kisses, I would be sort of paralyzed for a few minutes. Often I had to sit down. Just from kissing, mind you.

However...once we actually started dating, Charles would no longer tell me things. I’d see him scowling about something. I would ask what was wrong. Instead of opening the floodgates, griping about his boss, a professor, his roommates, he would say “Nothing.” Bigger scowl.

The answer was never “Nothing” when we were just friends. When we were just friends, he’d plop his electric blue head on my shoulder and let go. Now, when I wanted to talk about anything, he’d either get really sullen, or quietly slide his hand...somewhere. One rather frustrating, one rather distracting (but more enjoyable).

It became a purely physical relationship. Fantastic...except that I missed my friend so much. So much that after a while I really began to resent this hot guy who had taken him away from me.

One night we drove down to the beach. A storm was starting (how melodramatically appropriate). I begged him to tell me what was wrong.

He wasn’t able to give me an answer, other than he had never been involved with someone who was his friend. I found this very strange, as I have never been involved with anyone I wasn’t friends with.

We sat there for a while. I was racking my brains to come up with a way for this to work. He was sitting next to me, certain that it never would, and feeling very sorry for himself.

He looked at me “I miss my best friend.”

“I haven’t gone anywhere!”

“I know. This is me. I can’t do this right now. If we don’t break up now we’re going to get to a place where we can’t be friends ever again.”

That hit me like a bucket of ice water.

We both started to cry. Then we drove back to campus. I remembered that I still had his jacket at my place. He told me to hang onto it as long as I wanted. I went back to my room. My roommate was there with a couple of her friends. Nice girls that I didn’t really know all that well. There was the mandatory girl reaction (“Oh Honey! Are you okay? Do you need ice cream?”). I explained that it was for the best, really. I was fine, really. Maybe now we could be friends again, really. They finally left me alone. So I could cry. I knew we had done the right thing, so I couldn't figure out what I was crying for.

At the time, I never would have said so, but seven years later, I know it was the sexual aspect of the relationship. It was the only thing worth mourning.

The next afternoon I sprayed my perfume all over his jacket, then gave it back to him (how awful!).

There is a happy ending, believe it or not.

Shortly before I got married, four years after we dated, Charles and I talked about our brief romantic relationship, and its demise.

“Is this strange for you, my getting married?” I asked him.

“I think if I were single it would be. But, you know, I wouldn’t be with Sarah if it wasn’t for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You made me see women differently. Sarah’s my best friend...and I’m in love with her. I didn’t know I was supposed to want both.”

"You can talk to her...and stuff?"

He grinned "Oh yeah. All of it."

Sarah caught the bouquet at my wedding. He proposed a month later. Less than a year after that I was a bridesmaid at theirs. My husband always says that they’re his favorite couple, other than us. She loves telling people she caught his ex- girlfriend’s bouquet.

I always tell her how lucky she is...because he is such an amazing kisser!


Blogger Dr. Pauly said...

These are great. Keep them coming!

12:28 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home