It’s funny the topics of conversation that come up among drunken friends.

We were at a friend’s house after Saturday karaoke, as has become typical of our weekends.  Sing karaoke, then play Rock Band.  Only this week, it was strange, because once we got to our friend’s house, he decided he wanted to go to the gay bar with my BFF’s sister, who was celebrating her 21st birthday, and her friend.  “It’s cool, y’all can totally hang out here while I’m gone!” he assured us.  Which, I totally think is weird.  Especially since I’m always accusing him of being a serial killer because his house is so neat.

So here we were, my best friend, her husband, The Boyfriend, and me, at someone else’s house.  Left all alone to snoop through his things and drink all of his liquor.  Which we said we weren’t going to do, since my cousin’s birthday party was the next day, and I was in charge of orchestrating it.  “ONE beer”, we said before we ever went over there.  And a  Blue Moon with orange (my ultimate favorite) was all I had (well, that and a splash of Bailey’s in milk, but that doesn’t even count).  Rock band got old after one song.  My BFF fell asleep instantly.  I was wired from karaoke, but very bored. There were no playing cards in the house, so we tried to play Quarters.  Turns out, Quarters is even more boring than Rock Band when there is no one to play with you.

Eventually, The Boyfriend and Husband of the BFF  knocked back about half a bottle of Maker’s Mark, and conversations turned to religion, people we knew, this, that.  Isn’t it funny how small town we are?  Isn’t it funny that the person whose house we’re at was Jessica’s first kiss, and his ex-wife used to date Jessica’s ex-boyfriend? And then, of course, we had to go there.  The place I try to avoid.  My life is in a better place now.  I don’t want to revisit that time and be reminded of the fallacies of man, especially these fallacies, which if thought enough about can cause me to totally lose my faith in humanity. Oh, what? We’re going there anyway? Shit.

The Ex.  It’s something I try not to think about. Things did not end well.  But, since this is such a small town, everyone knows everyone, everyone has dated everyone, and you cannot go into Wal-Mart without running into at least one ex-boyfriend.  Now, this is not to say I’ve dated a lot of guys.  I’ve dated like…four guys seriously.  I’ve been on a couple of first-and-last dates.  I can count the guys I have kissed on my fingers.  I have been in what I considered love twice.

The first time, I was nineteen.  We met at a church hayride. We both worked at Wal-Mart.  I had never met someone who seemed so pure and good.  He made me feel like a princess.  We always did inventive things on dates.  Nine-and-a-half months into our relationship, I lost my virginity.  I was waiting for marriage, but I was convinced that this was The One.  I was sure that he would ask me to marry him.

He didn’t.

I waited.  And waited.  The dates stopped being original or romantic.  We ran out of things to talk about, because the stories that were once so interesting had been told so many times that they grated on my nerves.  We probably should have broken up sooner, but we were friends.  I loved his mother.  I would have stayed married to him forever to have a woman like her in my life.  But things eventually got rough between us.  I wanted him to show initiative, prove that he wanted more than a waiter’s job at Don Lolo and wanted a life for us together.  I was young and impatient then.  We would break up, feel lost, get back together.  I’d break up with him, he would leave flowers and sappy mixed CDs on my doorstep.  Eventually I thought, if this is the only time I am going to get treated this way, when he thinks he’s losing me, there is no way this can be a healthy relationship.

My BFF’s husband, who is still friends with this guy, has been told a different version of how things ended between us than the version I know.  His version is that The Boyfriend swooped in, stole me away, and The Ex resented The Boyfriend for a very long time, thinking that he’s the reason things ended between us.  It’s true–I met The Boyfriend while on a trip to Wal-Mart with The Ex (isn’t it lame how everything is centered around Wal-Mart?)–he was there with one of our friends.  We all met and talked in Wal-Mart for over an hour, and then we went to Waffle House, where we talked until the wee hours of the morning (I got in so much trouble when I finally got home!).  This sparked a friendship between The Boyfriend and me.  I might have even been a little interested in him.  But I was not about to throw away a three-year relationship with the person I lost my virginity to for something that might have been a mild flirtation.

“I always thought he broke up with you!” The Boyfriend expressed in our friend’s garage that night.  Well, that’s not exactly how it happened, either.

It started with a fight.  He had moved into my BFF and her hubby’s house.  His bedroom had icky awful wood paneling, and I had offered to help him spruce it up.  I bought some paint.  I thought he would be excited about it and help me paint.  He wasn’t.  He didn’t.  He played video games.  I got pissed off about this, so we had a fight and said things we didn’t mean.  I didn’t think we were “broken up” for real.

He slept with a girl who was supposed to be one of my best friends.  And so to me, that was the final nail in the coffin.  Nothing was going to make me forgive that.  I don’t care how many tears, “I’m sorry”s, “I love you”s, and “I was thinking about you when I did it!”s were said. (That song ran through my head a lot then…”It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced….”) If we had tried to move forward, I would have just seen her face.  I had been betrayed by two people.  I could believe it from her–as my BFF’s hubby pointed out to me as I chronicled the things that happened during our friendship, “WHY did you stay friends with her?”  Because I would rather get run over than have an enemy.  I knew she wasn’t a good person.  I wanted her to be.  She didn’t have a lot of girl friends (now I know why); I wanted to reach out to her.  So, I was a dutiful good friend…I babysat her daughter. I gave her rides.  I proofread her love letters.  I gave her food.  I listened.  Meanwhile, she was finding every guy I had ever went on a date with and throwing herself at them.  Saying things like “We should trade”, regarding my then-boyfriend and her ex-con baby daddy.  I wasn’t a good friend.  I was a sucker.

Things worked out for the best, I suppose.  My friendship with The Boyfriend eventually blossomed into something more.  It probably happened a little more quickly than it would have otherwise.  But left alone, I would have been forced to think about it all.  Deal with it.  And I’m an avoider.  So, I didn’t think about it.  I moved forward.

He didn’t like her.  He despised her, actually.  He despised himself.  So, she did what any super-desperate girl would do who wanted something she couldn’t have.  She got knocked up, and told him it was his.  He gave her money for an abortion, but she didn’t get one (she kept the money, though).  Doing what he thought was the honorable thing to do, he married her.  Three years of being a loving girlfriend, and if I had only known that I could have gotten a ring on my finger in a month’s time if I had just been irresponsible in the sack!!  Unfortunately for me, though, I do not think I would like it if that’s the only reason someone married me.  I want to get married because…you know.  Someone loves me.

In case you can’t tell, this is a bit of a sore subject for me.  Just being reminded that this happened, that two people could just do this to me and not give a crap about my feelings about it…it’s something that’s taken me five years, and I’m not sure I’m 100% over it, or if I will ever be.  I tried to reach out and be their friend even after this happened, which led to me getting slapped and The Boyfriend getting kicked in the stomach.  By Her, not The Ex.  And even after that, I spent my Family Dollar paycheck and got them a $75 baby shower gift.  Because I’m a fool.  Didn’t even get a “Thank You” card.  This is the kind of people I’m dealing with.  But I’ve been upset all these years because we’re not all still friends?

I hope by now he does actually love her and his family.  I want him to be happy, I really do.  I wish he had found a nice girl like my friends Stacey and Rachel, a simple country woman who loves the Lord and a good home cooked meal.  A woman who would never wish ill towards anyone.  Someone like his mother.  But it’s not my life, not my choice.  Even after all of this, I don’t think The Ex is a bad person…he was just an idiot in a moment of weakness.  Now she is The Devil as far as I’m concerned…she is even still messing with me by trying to make my best friends her best friends?  Crazy wench, that one.  But that’s a woman for you.  I hope he is happy.  I truly want him to be happy, because there is a part of me that will always love…not him, but the good times we had together.  That feeling of being in love for the first time.

As things progress into a more serious and romantic relationship with The Boyfriend, I realize I’ve made the right choice.  It’s been almost five years, and I’m still excited, still happy to see him.  We still manage to crack each other up.  We’ve been through hell and high water (literally!).  It was all totally worth it.  I have to let go of this other part of me.  Maybe I’ll never be unhurt by this.  But my life is better now.  I am a better person because all of this happened.  I have friends who I don’t have to worry about screwing me over.  I know what it means to truly be in love.  And when I get married, I will know that he feels the same way.

Other Gems from Jeb

• Happiness: The Ultimate Writer’s Block (1)
• Welcome to the Real World: At Least You Have a Job! (1)
• Get Over It!! (2)
• New Horizons (4)
• The Most Romantic Man on Earth (0)