If he did I threatened to join a convent to become a nun.
“And, I’ve only known every Tom, Juan and Harry on Guam—yes, I only dated the hottest Toms, Juans and Harrys—but with every man, I had a genuine connection. You can’t live your life worrying about Bradley being your first everything. It’s no longer special. He cheated for God’s sake! And you’re a hottie! Other men need to be blessed with your beauty.”
“Yeah, sure, hottie. I blamed my weight at first, but what if on Sunday, with the new me and everything he asks me to try again? What then?” I was afraid, maybe more so of not knowing what I really wanted. I didn’t want to continue with Bradley, yet I wanted validation from him, some kind of stamp of approval that I wasn’t a waste of space.
“Do you hear yourself?” Rachel blew out her breath sounding like a deflating balloon. She paced like a crazy tiger in front of me, then kicked up some sand in anger and the wind blasted it into my eyes and mouth. After a thousand apologies, a trip to the public restroom to clean my face, de-sand my eyes and reapply some make-up Rachel treated me to some lemonade. We continued our conversation on the way to the car. The grit in my eye bugged me to no end. Perhaps, like her words, Rachel wanted her advice to stick with me long after she went home.
“Nix, I hope to God Bradlame tries to nail you this Sunday and I hope to Jesus Christ Superstar that you shut him down! Who knows what real estate Barbie gave him.”
She was right. It would be kind of nice to see his reaction this Sunday.
“Nix, promise me that you won’t still be undecided when he gets out of training. Promise me that you’ll let this jerk go—out of your heart, mind and soul. Please.” Rachel grabbed my face and squished my cheeks together. “He will just break your heart again. I don’t want you hurt. Promise?”
“I proh-misshh.” She released my cheeks so I could speak. “I promise I’ll be a divorced woman next time we see each other.” And I finally felt like this was the right path to travel. Just needed that extra nudge from my best girl to make it official.
Divorce. D-I-V-O-R-C-E. It was so final. It was a sign of failure. I worried about what our parents would think, but pushed it to the back of my frazzled brain for now.
Several margaritas and ten shopping bags later, Rachel and I made it home. She commandeered my luggage for all the glorious items she purchased. As much as Rachel was a fashion designer, she loved buying high end designer clothes and shoes. Ever notice how food prepared by other people can be so much tastier? Same goes for clothes I guess.
Rachel and I spent the evening in. We watched old home videos marveling at our dated hair and clothes. My dad loved to video tape school functions, games, award ceremonies, chores, everything. At the time I was utterly embarrassed, but being older I was happy to have these memories burned onto tapes. So many of the images included Bradley and I was actually okay watching them. He was and forever will be a part of my life. He will always be known as my first love, my first husband and finally as the man who cheated on me and became the jerk I divorced. Rachel made me realize that I needed to push through my fears and face reality. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong. And, I tried to do everything right to repair his damage.
“You’re better off without him. Look how hot he was in high school.”
“That’s not helping.” I pulled my knees to my face.
“Nix! He was hot, now he’s not. He’s not that smart too. And his hair is receding which is why he shaved his head, I’m betting.”
“Okay, Rach, that helps a whole bunch.” We laughed, stuffed our faces with dessert kabobs and crashed out on the couch together.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I dreamt that my legs were fused. I was a mermaid on land and I was being chased, but couldn’t move. I must have made a hullaballoo
“And, I’ve only known every Tom, Juan and Harry on Guam—yes, I only dated the hottest Toms, Juans and Harrys—but with every man, I had a genuine connection. You can’t live your life worrying about Bradley being your first everything. It’s no longer special. He cheated for God’s sake! And you’re a hottie! Other men need to be blessed with your beauty.”
“Yeah, sure, hottie. I blamed my weight at first, but what if on Sunday, with the new me and everything he asks me to try again? What then?” I was afraid, maybe more so of not knowing what I really wanted. I didn’t want to continue with Bradley, yet I wanted validation from him, some kind of stamp of approval that I wasn’t a waste of space.
“Do you hear yourself?” Rachel blew out her breath sounding like a deflating balloon. She paced like a crazy tiger in front of me, then kicked up some sand in anger and the wind blasted it into my eyes and mouth. After a thousand apologies, a trip to the public restroom to clean my face, de-sand my eyes and reapply some make-up Rachel treated me to some lemonade. We continued our conversation on the way to the car. The grit in my eye bugged me to no end. Perhaps, like her words, Rachel wanted her advice to stick with me long after she went home.
“Nix, I hope to God Bradlame tries to nail you this Sunday and I hope to Jesus Christ Superstar that you shut him down! Who knows what real estate Barbie gave him.”
She was right. It would be kind of nice to see his reaction this Sunday.
“Nix, promise me that you won’t still be undecided when he gets out of training. Promise me that you’ll let this jerk go—out of your heart, mind and soul. Please.” Rachel grabbed my face and squished my cheeks together. “He will just break your heart again. I don’t want you hurt. Promise?”
“I proh-misshh.” She released my cheeks so I could speak. “I promise I’ll be a divorced woman next time we see each other.” And I finally felt like this was the right path to travel. Just needed that extra nudge from my best girl to make it official.
Divorce. D-I-V-O-R-C-E. It was so final. It was a sign of failure. I worried about what our parents would think, but pushed it to the back of my frazzled brain for now.
Several margaritas and ten shopping bags later, Rachel and I made it home. She commandeered my luggage for all the glorious items she purchased. As much as Rachel was a fashion designer, she loved buying high end designer clothes and shoes. Ever notice how food prepared by other people can be so much tastier? Same goes for clothes I guess.
Rachel and I spent the evening in. We watched old home videos marveling at our dated hair and clothes. My dad loved to video tape school functions, games, award ceremonies, chores, everything. At the time I was utterly embarrassed, but being older I was happy to have these memories burned onto tapes. So many of the images included Bradley and I was actually okay watching them. He was and forever will be a part of my life. He will always be known as my first love, my first husband and finally as the man who cheated on me and became the jerk I divorced. Rachel made me realize that I needed to push through my fears and face reality. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong. And, I tried to do everything right to repair his damage.
“You’re better off without him. Look how hot he was in high school.”
“That’s not helping.” I pulled my knees to my face.
“Nix! He was hot, now he’s not. He’s not that smart too. And his hair is receding which is why he shaved his head, I’m betting.”
“Okay, Rach, that helps a whole bunch.” We laughed, stuffed our faces with dessert kabobs and crashed out on the couch together.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I dreamt that my legs were fused. I was a mermaid on land and I was being chased, but couldn’t move. I must have made a hullaballoo
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