My First Real Internet Love
It had been a month since I last saw Roy. I had gone out every night, running away from his calls, emails and messages. (?I cried all night,? ?I miss you so much,? ?I?m so unhappy without you.?) He wasn?t the only thing I was running away from. With each and every day of that summer, the condition of my grandmother deteriorated as she was inching her way closer and closer towards death.
On the 14th of September she died. I couldn?t run away from it anymore. I would have to face her death. There was only one escape away from the doom and gloom at home: Roy. I stopped ignoring him and went to his apartment. There were some ground rules for our first meeting. I would need an apology for what happened last time and I would need a promise he would change.
I got neither, but still stayed. I had no other options. Facing death alone I couldn?t. Not that he helped in any way possible. He was annoyed that we couldn?t go on a reconciliation vacation trip because I had to attend my grandmother?s funeral. And so we returned to our regular programming of private and public fights, emotional numbness and a general air of negativity.
Luckily, all of that helped me to not deal with my grandmother?s death, but in the month we had been apart I had revived my social life and the (re)connections made weren?t so easy to erase or forget. I didn?t neglect my friends anymore and I let him know that he wasn?t always my priority. This frustrated and angered him to no end, which seemed to put an even bigger strain on our already dysfunctional functionality.
Then came Halloween and we went to a Bat For Lashes concert. I was excited. Not only was I going to see Natasha Khan live, but I was also going to meet Roy?s friends. He had never wanted me to meet the friends he had made since moving to Belgium, so I was obviously excited and honored to be finally granted this privilege.
Things started off well. When we arrived at the venue, he was yelling at me for not being sure what time we had to catch the train home. His friends saw everything and tried to ignore it as I introduced myself to them. It was probably the worst first impression I have ever made.
Throughout the night he didn?t stop making a fuss about everything and anything one can make a fuss about. It was hell. When the concert finally started and he had to shut up, thoughts started going through my mind. Thoughts that took over the love I had for him. (?Fuck. This. Shit. HARD.?)
Maybe it was the awkward look from his friends, wondering why the hell we were together. (?I don?t need this.?) Maybe my ultimate limit of public abuse had been reached. (?I never signed up for this.?) All I know is that then and there everything changed and I knew it was over. (?He?s a douche. A dumbass. A loser. I hate him.?) For good.(?It?s done.?)
Back home I told him we were through. He didn?t say much. (?If this is what you want.?) I think he wanted out too. In the month following our break up we occasionally hooked up. (I know, the number one break-up rule is NO EX-SEX!, but I couldn?t help myself.) Then, all of a sudden, without any notice, he quit his job and left the country. He moved in with a French guy in London that he had met on the same message board as I met him. They had been flirting online for 6 months. I was heartbroken.
It took me a year to process everything and let it all go, but in the end I turned out fine. I learned a lot about myself (Isn?t that what relationships are for?!) and it helped me realize my self worth (I think).
Out of the whole thing I only have one single regret and that is the public online archive of our young love. It?s quite painful to think that all of my corny mistakes are locked in internet memory so my grandchildren will be able to experience the early seeds of my first big heartbreak. But who knows, maybe it will help them to not make the same mistakes as me. Of course it won?t.
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Getting up and going to work is hard to do.
Last week I got to meet a man in the last six hours of his life, although I obviously didn’t know that at the time.
Donna’s Coffee Shop, 800 N. Charles Street, Mount Vernon.
Soon, your honger — your hungry anger — will drive you to eat that Jumbo Slice and/or pack of nuggets as though it dishonored your family name and this is feudal China.