Should I have peeled myself away from my mounds of work and gone? Probably not. But I did. And I had a lovely Cuban meal, lots of laughs, and a great mojito.
And somehow, the story of my high school boyfriend came up. He was extremely cute. Tall. Maybe 6’2″ or so. And broad. He was a football player at a local prep school. Oh, and he was on the lacrosse team and the wrestling team, too. If only his academics were quite so….
But I digress.
I really liked him. And he wasn’t a half bad kisser, either.
When I went 3 hours away for college, he stayed back in the D.C. area and got a job. He visited me some weekends. But then, one of his older brothers asked him to come to San Jose to work with him for a bit. He’s be back soon, he said.
We talked on the phone a lot at first. And then less. Do you remember how expensive long distance calls were in the late 70’s?
He was busy. He was adjusting to California life. Yeah, he kind of liked it. Time difference. Busy. You get it.
I got the invitation.
To his wedding.
Isn’t that a charming way to break up with someone? It’s been 28 years. I certainly don’t wish him badly. But seriously, doesn’t that suck? As if it isn’t hard enough to be 18.