Sweet Home Indiana. As per usual, I had a ridiculously entertaining holiday weekend. I never really know what kind of trouble I’m going to get into when I enter Small Town, USA, but it usually consists of a water-down version of my high school antics. This Easter was no exception.
It was great to get home and see my family, who’ve been nothing short of exceptional since my split from J. As I walked in the door I see a pic of me with my high school boyfriend staring at me from the refrigerator, and I know my dad is up to no good. I take it down and throw it at him before I hug him. I know what he was insinuating though, and it was a point well made. After ending things with that ex, whom I’ll call First Love, or FL for the bloggy world, I was really unsure I would ever love anyone, or find anyone else to love me to that extent, ever again. It completely crushed him, and really took me a long time to see the reasons we weren’t right for each other, although I knew them at some level when I broke up with him. When I started dating J it was the most refreshing feeling because he gave me so many things I wasn’t getting in my last relationship.
Moving on…so when FL texts me to let me know he’s in town, and interested in grabbing some margaritas, my entire fam decides we’re up for the reunion. As I’m getting out of my car at El Reparo, our regular supplier of all things Mexican goodness, I see a group of 5 guys from high school. I’m greeted as “Firstname*fuckin’*Lastname” and huge hugs from all of them. We were never really close, but spent our share of nights wasted and naked in hot tubs together (have I mentioned how crazy my senior year was?). So we get inside to find FL at the table with our first round, and he’s looking exactly like he does in every memory I have of him. The boy NEVER changes (he had on shoes he’s owned since sophomore year—no joke). I realize this is one thing I will always appreciate about him. He is consistent, and he is true to himself. He always knows exactly how he feels, and doesn’t hold anything back. So we start our journey down memory lane, which goes a little something like: “remember when you saw my mom in her bra on Easter,” “remember when we got arrested—twice,” “remember when you broke up with me via TEXT MESSAGE.” After we shut down the restaurant, Little Sis gets put in charge of DD duties. He tried to get me to go back to his house “You can sleep on my pull-out, I’ll sleep on my pull-out, I promise not to touch you!” At which time I decided the bar was a much safer option.
At this point I will need to reference the scene of Reese Witherspoon returning to her hometown in Alabama, because I can think of no more accurate a description. There was everything but the baby…in a bar. It ended up being loads of fun, and I rekindled some old friendships and enemy-ships alike. This is a post in itself, but I no longer keep in touch with my high school girlfriends, so I was elated to hang out with one of them and realize after all the time that has passed, nothing had changed between us. We ran from the dive bar, to a beach-themed bar down the street and the fun really began. We decided to attempt to score free drinks/shots, “But only from people we don’t know, since everyone else knows you’re married and I’m a bitch”. The plan worked exceptionally well—four shots of Patron, 2 Coronas and 2 of whatever her husband was drinking. I forgot how unassuming country boys are and appreciated being asked “could I trouble you for a dance later” and best of all “let me know if you need anything else”!!!! Why can’t they put boys like this in the city?!
So the night was progressing reasonably well, and FL was telling me about his girlfriend moving out after 1.5 years (because he wasn’t “religious” enough) to which to told him she was never good enough for him and he should’ve kicked her out long before then (completely true). Then I started to get him up to date on my life, the boys involved and the boys not involved…and somewhere in the mix I must’ve pissed him off because the next thing I know he’s in my face telling me to “get over myself” and asking “who do you think you are”?!? WTF. Clearly something I said offended him, combined with the fact that I wasn’t hanging on his every word or returning his more-than-friendly vibe. I start crying in the bar, mostly b/c I’m on emotion overload at the point in time, and getting called out by my ex-ex-ex bf is something I just didn’t need. So I call dad, who is more than happy to pick me up, ignore calls and texts from FL, and head home.
Glad that the crisis is averted, I changed into PJs and spent the next 2 hrs on the exercise machine in the basement pouring my heart out and talking my dad’s ear off. At 3am I proceeded upstairs to get in bed with and wake up little sis, who made it very clear she wasn’t in the mood for drunken conversation. Teenagers. :)
I spent Easter with my phone off, napping, eating and movie watching for the rest of the day. Conventional it was not…but typical? Oh god yes.
***Update, lunchtime conversation with FL has shed some light on the situation. Apparently, he was taking my words personally, because he was drunk…and the situation had NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. We’re going to continue to work on the friends thing, but I’m not sure he’ll ever really be able to handle it—or me.***
It was great to get home and see my family, who’ve been nothing short of exceptional since my split from J. As I walked in the door I see a pic of me with my high school boyfriend staring at me from the refrigerator, and I know my dad is up to no good. I take it down and throw it at him before I hug him. I know what he was insinuating though, and it was a point well made. After ending things with that ex, whom I’ll call First Love, or FL for the bloggy world, I was really unsure I would ever love anyone, or find anyone else to love me to that extent, ever again. It completely crushed him, and really took me a long time to see the reasons we weren’t right for each other, although I knew them at some level when I broke up with him. When I started dating J it was the most refreshing feeling because he gave me so many things I wasn’t getting in my last relationship.
Moving on…so when FL texts me to let me know he’s in town, and interested in grabbing some margaritas, my entire fam decides we’re up for the reunion. As I’m getting out of my car at El Reparo, our regular supplier of all things Mexican goodness, I see a group of 5 guys from high school. I’m greeted as “Firstname*fuckin’*Lastname” and huge hugs from all of them. We were never really close, but spent our share of nights wasted and naked in hot tubs together (have I mentioned how crazy my senior year was?). So we get inside to find FL at the table with our first round, and he’s looking exactly like he does in every memory I have of him. The boy NEVER changes (he had on shoes he’s owned since sophomore year—no joke). I realize this is one thing I will always appreciate about him. He is consistent, and he is true to himself. He always knows exactly how he feels, and doesn’t hold anything back. So we start our journey down memory lane, which goes a little something like: “remember when you saw my mom in her bra on Easter,” “remember when we got arrested—twice,” “remember when you broke up with me via TEXT MESSAGE.” After we shut down the restaurant, Little Sis gets put in charge of DD duties. He tried to get me to go back to his house “You can sleep on my pull-out, I’ll sleep on my pull-out, I promise not to touch you!” At which time I decided the bar was a much safer option.
At this point I will need to reference the scene of Reese Witherspoon returning to her hometown in Alabama, because I can think of no more accurate a description. There was everything but the baby…in a bar. It ended up being loads of fun, and I rekindled some old friendships and enemy-ships alike. This is a post in itself, but I no longer keep in touch with my high school girlfriends, so I was elated to hang out with one of them and realize after all the time that has passed, nothing had changed between us. We ran from the dive bar, to a beach-themed bar down the street and the fun really began. We decided to attempt to score free drinks/shots, “But only from people we don’t know, since everyone else knows you’re married and I’m a bitch”. The plan worked exceptionally well—four shots of Patron, 2 Coronas and 2 of whatever her husband was drinking. I forgot how unassuming country boys are and appreciated being asked “could I trouble you for a dance later” and best of all “let me know if you need anything else”!!!! Why can’t they put boys like this in the city?!
So the night was progressing reasonably well, and FL was telling me about his girlfriend moving out after 1.5 years (because he wasn’t “religious” enough) to which to told him she was never good enough for him and he should’ve kicked her out long before then (completely true). Then I started to get him up to date on my life, the boys involved and the boys not involved…and somewhere in the mix I must’ve pissed him off because the next thing I know he’s in my face telling me to “get over myself” and asking “who do you think you are”?!? WTF. Clearly something I said offended him, combined with the fact that I wasn’t hanging on his every word or returning his more-than-friendly vibe. I start crying in the bar, mostly b/c I’m on emotion overload at the point in time, and getting called out by my ex-ex-ex bf is something I just didn’t need. So I call dad, who is more than happy to pick me up, ignore calls and texts from FL, and head home.
Glad that the crisis is averted, I changed into PJs and spent the next 2 hrs on the exercise machine in the basement pouring my heart out and talking my dad’s ear off. At 3am I proceeded upstairs to get in bed with and wake up little sis, who made it very clear she wasn’t in the mood for drunken conversation. Teenagers. :)
I spent Easter with my phone off, napping, eating and movie watching for the rest of the day. Conventional it was not…but typical? Oh god yes.
***Update, lunchtime conversation with FL has shed some light on the situation. Apparently, he was taking my words personally, because he was drunk…and the situation had NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. We’re going to continue to work on the friends thing, but I’m not sure he’ll ever really be able to handle it—or me.***
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