Back, Back, Back It Up

And if my heart be scarred and burned,
The safer I, for all I learned;
The calmer, I, to see it true
That ways of love are never new---Incurable, Dorothy Parker

In my previous post I said I was going to talk about men commenting on my weight, but, in light of a conversation I had with my mother today, I decided to go back even further into my history to share a story that I think has had a huge impact on my life. This is the story of Hank.

Hank was what one might call my puppy love. The first memory I have of Hank is from 1st grade. We were both mini-attendants for football Homecoming. We had to dress up for it and ride in a convertible at the parade. He held the crown and I handed out the corsages. After that I just remember chasing him around the playground and other elementary aged interaction with the opposite sex. We started "dating" in 3rd grade when he gave me a decorated hat box for Christmas. His mom made them, and he told her that he really wanted to give one to me. So, after he showed his emotions with material goods we were an item.

Hank and I continued our "relationship" for another two years. During these years we did not really do much. He was always my guy for the couple's skate at skating parties. We always exchanged Valentines. I went out to his farm to play with him and his cousin Colt, which included checking the coon traps and running through the hay bales. We would call each other during the summer and talk about harvest and softball. We held hands at recess sometimes and once he kissed me on that lips. That was about it.

But then the day came when Hank decided to end our relationship. It was on Valentine's Day in 5th grade at a high school basketball game. I had no idea he was going to break up with me. There was no inclination, no warning signs.

He did not have the guts to do it himself. He sent one of our mutual friends, Matt Frost, to break up with me. Matt just walked straight up to me in the cafeteria and said, "Hank is breaking up with you." I just stood there, stunned. I said, "Okay." I was not quite sure how to react. I did not cry, I did not go accost Hank. I just let it be.

Then, the next week, Hank started to date my arch nemesis of the time, Katy. Katy informed me that he broke up with me to date her because he thought she was better than me. He thought I was ugly and fat and just was not cool anymore. And, not being cool in 5th grade is pretty much the worst insult a kid could get. I did not really believe her, but he confirmed everything she said.

This marks the first time I was screwed over by a guy. I felt sad because he did not want me anymore. He thought I was worthless. He knew I did not like Katy, but he dated her not even a week after he broke up with me on VALENTINE'S DAY. It broke my little 5th grade heart that a boy had so easily discarded me.

Yet, when I think about this experience, I realize how this pattern repeats itself no matter what age a girl is. It was not the first time it happened. It was definitely not the last time it would happen. I continue to have my heart broken by a guy who was cowardly. A guy who would immediately rebound with a girl he had waiting in the wings, a girl I did not especially like. A guy who would say harsh things about me to my face. It is neither the first or last time a guy will make me feel worthless. The pattern repeats over and over and over, leaving me scarred and burned.

But, like Dorothy puts it, the safer, I, for all I learned; The safer, I, to see it true that ways of love are never new. It does help to know what to expect from a relationship and be realistic about it. Yes, that is pessimistic or cynical to think that the only way a relationship will end is in a tragic way. But if we are honest with ourselves, isn't there only a million to one shot that one relationship is the ONE?

Dorothy ends the poem with the line But you, my sweet, are different. It is that endearing hope that this new relationship, this new guy, this new love, this new connection is the one that breaks the pattern. The one that makes all those scars and burns a little less visible, a little less painful, until they are all but forgotten and healed.

Hank is getting married this month. He found his sweet to make things different.

I am not bitter or jealous. Hank taught me valuable things about men and about myself. I thank him for that and wish him nothing but happiness.

Me, I am incurable. I know the odds. I know the consequences. I know the gamble. But, I continue to search because I know there has to be at least one guy who will not think I am ugly, fat or uncool. He will think I am pretty, just right and totally cool.

Next time...I promise to write about the weight comments. Unless I am otherwise inspired.