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Heartbreak

Lately, I've been thinking of my first major heartbreak, since I'm given to pursuing productive activities like that. My sophomore year in college, I began dating a guy I never would have considered before: tall, blond, and upper crust. I don't mean upper crust in a pissant country club in a pissant town kind of way. I mean upper crust in a Founding Fathers kind of way. He was a diversion. We were playmates. We had sex in a middle of a football field at night. We hung out at dives and drank pitchers of beer.

We had been dating for two months when I was raped. One night afterwards, I was crying and raging and I hurled a beer can at the wall with full force. And then he did the same.

In that moment, he was no longer just a playmate. I felt our souls fuse. When he made that spontaneous gesture, I knew he understood. I fell in love with him completely.

He left me for another woman almost three years later. She was in every way my exact opposite. After midnight the night before his wedding, he called me from a pay phone and told me "I love you" and hung up.

Comments

Those come one in a million, don't they?

Stings like a bitch, too.

SMACK! (Sound of me hurling a beer can against a wall.)

OUCH.

:(

Sounds like he not only broke your heart, but broke his own heart, too, of his own choice. Foolish man. Very sad, all around.

For many this experience would jade and embitter. But hope is never futile, and only rarely unrealistic. Your resilience and unique character - two striking traits evident after 5 minutes reading this blog - mean that another soul fusion is highly probable.

Shit, man.

had to wait a few minutes before i could totally compose myself to comment. in reading that, i remembered. and in remembering, cried. a good, soul-cleansing cry. thank you.

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