Love Story, Part II: My Detour

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The guitarist and I talked and flirted the evening away. I could not believe he liked me! At the end of the night, I gave him my number. I grinned the whole way home. We spoke on the phone a couple of times that week, and then I totaled my car. That is a story in and of itself that I will save for later, what you need to know for this story is that I suffered a Grade III concussion. Because the concussion was so severe, I missed several weeks of school. I couldn’t remember anything from the morning of the accident until I woke up after, and I could not retain any new information. The morning after the accident, the guitarist called to check on me. Several of our classmates had driven by the wreckage on the way to school, so word spread quickly. He asked if I’d like to see a movie when I felt up to it, and I said yes. I joke that I only agreed to go out with him because I wasn’t thinking clearly, between the head injury and the teenage hormones. There’s probably more truth to that than I’d like to believe.

This boy knew how to play the game. He told me what I wanted to hear in dulcet tones, dripping with honey, and I lapped up every word. He even started going to church with me, and we prayed and read the Bible together. We moved fast and did some things I’m not proud of, and quickly fell into puppy-love. We talked about our futures and made the starry-eyed plans that young lovers make. Then, at the Prom, he requested Our Song. While we slow-danced, pressed too close together, he slipped a tiny ring onto my finger. We had been dating for a whopping five months and had only known each other for three weeks before that. Yes, we were total idiots.

Shortly before graduation, he developed a serious medical condition and couldn’t walk. For weeks into the summer, I cared for him all day so his parents wouldn’t have to take time off work. At first it was OK, but things started to change. He began to withdraw. When he started to recover, he still let me help him some, but we didn’t talk. I was so confused. And then the hammer fell. He broke it off. I felt nauseous. I couldn’t breathe. How did this happen? What did I do wrong? Why would he do this? A few days later, he called and asked me to come over. He apologized, and we got back together, but something was different. We went back and forth, on again, off again, for months. And then it was over.

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