July 21, 2010

Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

Posted in Friends, Growing Up, Life, Living and Learning, Relationships tagged after college, boyfriends, cheating, college, college life, crazy nights, dating, exes, friends, funny, gold digger, growing up, happiness, infidelity, life experiences, love, past relationships, relationships, strip club, theme party, trophy wife, true love at 11:52 am by confessionsofacollegegraduate

So after my bitchfest yesterday, I got to thinking about some of my past relationships/hook ups/etc… and since I promised I would be a little more entertaining today, I thought I’d give you a little insight into my previous lives with some of my exes. Sound good? No? Well, hopefully I’ll at least get an E for effort. I mean, y’all have to give me some credit for trying. But anyway…

I guess I should start with my first *real* relationship with my high school boyfriend. Or maybe I shouldn’t call him my high school boyfriend, seeing as how I was in high school, and he was nine years older than me, and his high school days were only a distant memory, but… it is what it is. Like every other delusional, 18 year old, high school senior, I really believed that we were going to be together forever, and I was devastated to be moving almost ten hours away for college. Honestly. Until I was actually at college for about a week. And then I knew it was over.

Almost every night, I would pre-game in the dorms with my friends, and he would call. I would make everyone shut up, and then I would put on my professional I’m-asleep-so-I-can’t-wake-up-to-talk-to-you voice, and tell him that he woke me up, that I loved him, and that I would call him in the morning. And then I would proceed to finish the handle of Captain Morgan (which I still can’t even smell to this day without getting sick) with my friends, go out all night, and maybe even end up going home with someone else. Nice and classy, right? I thought so. But anyway, this went out until the spring semester of my freshman year when I finally had to suck it up and call it quits. He, of course, was shocked and devastated and apparently had no idea that things weren’t working and eventually ended up wiping out his entire bank account and going to rehab. Yeah. Apparently I have that effect on people. But hey, I am pretty incredible, so I would probably go off the deep end if I lost me too.

Whatever. I was living it up, enjoying the single life, taking in the whole college experience, and then. The worst thing ever. My school got cancelled for an entire semester. An. Entire. Semester. The fall semester of my sophomore year. And I had to move back home and try and find a balance between the newly found wild me, and the more conservative, live-at-home-with-my-mom me. Hence, boyfriend #2. He was a great time-killer for about six months, even though I did cheat on him a time or two with our coworkers, and we had a lot of fun. It was my first really light-hearted relationship that was supposed to be no strings attached until I could go back to school. But then, we “fell in love”. In all reality, we weren’t in love at all, but I think we both just thought that we were supposed to be, and so we acted the part. After the whole cheating scandal(s) blew up in my face and he still stayed with me, I knew I would never respect him, but I guess I felt guilty and tried to make it work anyway. So he came back to college with me to help me move in, ended up getting jealous of all the guys I knew/was talking to, and making out with a random chick at a frat party. I basically told him to go fuck himself, and he got on a plane back home. He too was devastated, and kept calling and trying to get us back together… but it was over.

Then that weekend, I met my current boyfriend. In a bar. After I had been at a “Cowboy Christmas” theme party, and was wearing daisy dukes, cowboy boots, and pigtail braids. And I saw him, liked what I saw, and went right over and sat on his lap. As I mentioned in my previous post, we hung out/dated/hooked up/etc. for about ten months before we became *official*. And during the time, I was livin’ up the single life and loving every minute of it. I pseudo dated a few other guys, but nothing too serious. Right before my boyfriend and I decided to try the whole relationship thing, I had just started dating this other guy who was pretty much perfect in every way other than the fact that I really wasn’t physically attracted to him at all. But he had money. Lots of money. And he showed me and my friends a great time, quite a few times (one time, he took us all to the strip club and gave us this enormous stack of bills because we wanted to “make it rain” on the strippers… yeah… those kind of ridiculous, great times…), and then on our first date, he took me to the fanciest restaurant and ordered one of everything on the menu (without meat, because I’m a vegetarian) so that I could try everything. It was awesome. And he admittedly wanted me to be his trophy wife, which also could have been awesome. (Don’t judge me because I’m honest.) I was all, you mean I can have the money to do anything that I want, and all I have to do is look hot? Count me in! But then, my boyfriend asked me to “take care of him” after he got his wisdom teeth out, and that was all she wrote. True love prevailed. And now here I am, almost four years later, completely in love with the only man that I’ve ever really actively pursued, living with him, my mom, and our two dogs, and hopefully on my way to happily ever after.

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