How We Met, Part 1 of oh, Let's Say 3

My Dating History

I had quite a few boyfriends in high school. Only 3 of them went to my school - first because I was a dork and then because I was a freak. Let me tell you about the ones that affected my future choices the most.

David

I met him at a Bible study. He was 16 and I was 14. He taught me how to waltz. He played a synthesizer (hee hee - flashback) . He was pretty cute. I was not yet a freak, and tended to dress nicely when he came over. One day, we were out walking and a truck drove by. The 2 guys inside it hooted at me and made a few interesting gestures. Perhaps they were construction workers. I turned to my boyfriend, thinking he would be upset or give them the finger or something. He shrugged and said: "I like it when other guys look at my girl. It makes me feel I've got something they want." So to him I was a cool pair of shoes, a nice jacket, something to wear on his arm. Yee. Haw.

Anyway, he was a pretty good kisser and I can appreciate that. We dated for maybe 4 months. He wanted more than kissing and would always invite me over to his house when his parents weren't home. The last 2 months or so, we didn't even go out anywhere - just him trying to get into my pants. One day he invited me over and I said no. After a few minutes silence, he hung up and I never heard from him again.

He made me leery of cute guys and guys who don't take me out anywhere.


Davey

I met him through a mutual friend. He was 19 and I was 14. My mother hated him. I can't imagine why. He let me bring him to church. Turned out that he was even related to another family there.

Side note: our church had founded an elementary school, which I attended from Kindergarten to Grade 8. The school was actually attached to the church. Thus, I spent 6 days out of 7 at church for 8 years. They skipped me up from Grade 5 to Grade 6 at Christmas break. So, being a December baby, I was nearly 2 years younger than most of my class.

He said he loved me within 2 weeks. I didn't think that could be true, really. I'd watched my older friends fall in and out of love and I had begun to think that maybe it was something else besides love. Anyway, this threw me a bit, but I lied and said I loved him too. He seemed to really need me to say that. He wrote me poems about getting married. I thought that was a bit much, but didn't say so. My mother made me break up with him. He cried. It was kind of creepy really. We'd been dating for 2 months. I didn't think it should be that big a deal.

He made me leery of guys who love me immediately.

Steve

I met him at school. He was 18 and I was 15. He was still "in love" with his ex GF. He liked to sing "2 out of 3 Ain't Bad" to me. To this day, I hate Meatloaf.

For those of you who are lucky enough not to know the song:

I want you.
I need you.
But there ain't no way I'm ever going to love you
Now don't be sad
'Cause 2 out of 3 ain't bad.

Classy, eh?

Anyway, not a bad kisser, but he wanted sex and I kept saying no. He broke up with me (by way of a note slipped in my locker) after 2 months because "I need you more physically that I do mentally." This has always irked me because it should really be "emotionally", not "mentally". Moron. But since it was almost a relief to be rid of him, I didn't hold it against him and we were "still friends". Maybe a month later, he was telling me how he'd had to go to the doctor because he had "a cold - down there". Dodged a bullet, I did.

Technically, this guy didn't really affect my choices, but he was an ass and I want to heap scorn on him. Years later, after he had been through a string of girlfriends, he had the nerve to give my husband advice, because he knew "how to treat a lady". Sure.

Jerk.

Kyle

I met him by accident at a roller skating rink. He was 19 and I was 16. Yes, roller skating was out of style, but that just meant you could spend the night at the rink without a lot of people around. I was there on the day I was supposed to have been at a wedding with yet another boyfriend. I was pretty sure he had dumped me, considering I wouldn't have sex with him either, but wasn't exactly sure, since he hadn't called. Well, it had been a month and my calls to him hadn't been returned, so I figured...

Anyway, a couple girlfriends and I were celebrating being liberated from jerks and some guy skated by me and nearly made me fall over. I yelled at him in a couple languages, since I can do that and went on my way, grumbling about idiots. Later, he came over to the table my GFs and I were at and apologised and we started talking. I gave him my phone number. He called me the next day.

About 2 months into dating, he asked me if I'd have sex with him. He didn't just try to get some, like the others before. I liked that he asked. I thought about it. He was patient as I thought. I decided in his favour and told him he could have that for his birthday present. (So, MM...does that make me a skank?) I wish I could remember how that went. I was probably drunk. I used to like getting drunk. Anyway, however it was that time, we had plenty more of it over the next couple months. As firsts go, he was the best. He was concerned about me and whether I was enjoying myself. He made sure I did. He liked to try new things, but only if I was comfortable with them. He was always concerned about birth control. We used condoms, but he wanted me to go on the pill. I did, eventually, but by the time they kicked in, he had already decided to dump me. He said it was because he was going to college and didn't think he'd have time for everything. Maybe that's the reason. We did see each other off and on and acted like we were dating when we did. I got all hung up on him, actually. I mean, I was pretty callous about breaking up with guys. I cried over Davey just because of the guilt, but not because I didn't want to break up. I don't think I cried for the others. Maybe one, but that would have been guilt too.

He gave me high expectations for future partners.

Jim

I met him through a friend. She set us up, in fact. He was 18 and I was 16, just about to turn 17. He was a triathalete, meaning he did those Iron Man race-type things where you swim, the ride a bike, then run for a really long time. He was "in love" within a couple weeks. Gack. I should have tossed him right there. I didn't tell him I loved him back. So at least I was truthful for a little while. I did eventually cave to the pressure and say it, but it was a big fat lie. He was a huge liar himself. He claimed to be related to the drummer from a Canadian rock band (who remembers Platinum Blonde?) and said that he had had conversations with a famous triathelete, who had said it was fine if he used the same logo. Sure. My mother wanted to know why I'd let him lie like that. I just shrugged.

Anyway. He didn't have a job and kept sponging off me. The sex was awful. He actually bragged that he could finish up within 5 minutes. His penis made an L-shape that pointed downwards. That was uncomfortable. Who cares. Point is, he made up some stupid story specifically designed to make me mad and break up with him. It was so obvious that even I could see it. Who decides on a whim to start beating up smaller kids and then brags about it to their hippie wannabe girlfriend?

He made me leery of unemployed guys and reinforced the thought that "I love you" is not something you say right away. I consider him the worst of the bunch.

I told my girlfriend not to set me up again.

To Be Continued...