The Night That Began The Worst 7 Months Of My Life
Written in September of '03
“So I forget about her, and then when she comes back, I just pretend to have forgotten about her?”
“Right…only more likely the opposite.
“What?”
“Well at first you just pretend to forget about her, but eventually you really do forget.”
“And what if she comes back before I forget?”
“See, that’s the thing…somehow they know not to come back until you really forget.”
-Swingers
I know a lot of guys who would say that losing all the money in their wallet in one night is a traumatic event. On July 19, 2003, “all the money in my wallet” was ten dollars, and technically I hadn’t lost it. I’d gambled it away over the course of a poker night at my friend Devon’s house. I certainly wasn’t happy about the loss of my precious cash, but it was only a dollar more than an hour’s wage. I would have earned the money back by 1:00 the next afternoon. Besides, I love to play poker so it was more like paying $10 to be entertained. It was a loss from which I could easily recover. What I didn’t know was that when I arrived home, I would suffer a loss from which I still have not recovered.
Perhaps I should give you a little background on what my life was like up until that memorable poker night: I was in the midst of a mellow, yet enjoyable summer. I had just finished my junior year of college and gotten excellent grades. I made $9 an hour as a lifeguard and had 8 rescues, so I suppose on some level that made me a hero. It made me well-tanned and well-paid at the very least. I was having a great time partying with my friends and finally getting to spend lots of time with my girlfriend, Anna. Things with me and Anna were better than they’d ever been.
In the year and three months we’d been dating, we had always gotten along very well, but busy schedules and ever-changing locations kept us from seeing each other as much as we would have liked. During our first summer I made frequent trips from Omaha to Lincoln so that I could spend time with her. During the school year we were lucky to get five hours together in a week despite the fact that my dorm room was directly above hers. Finally, though, we had a summer where we were both in the same city and relatively unscheduled. I couldn’t have been happier. She meant the world to me, and I meant as much to her. The school year was done, Anna was there with me and I no longer had to answer to other girls when they so suggestively asked, “Where’s your girlfriend?” No matter what had gone wrong in my day, the moment I saw her face everything was better. My summer was going perfectly. I had good grades, a good job, the cool house where everybody wanted to party, a beautiful girlfriend who loved me…you name it. In my mind’s eye, I was the shit. Did you notice how that description is written in past-tense? Ah, what a difference a day makes…
I returned home from poker night in much better spirits than when I had left. A good drive and some loud music almost always do wonders for my mood. It was past 2:00 AM, so I figured I would just grab a glass of milk, check my e-mail and be off to bed. My figuring was all wrong. Steps one and two of the process went precisely as planned, but what waited for me in the e-mail was as unpredictable as it was surreal. I typed in my login name and password as I had done thousands of times before, and found that I had just one new message. Already I was getting excited.
Anna was in Turkey for an archaeological project. She had been gone nine days, which left 26 days until she came home…but who was counting? I had yet to hear from her, and I was becoming worried for her safety. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was becoming worried for the safety of our relationship. I hadn’t spent a moment away from my phone since she’d been gone, and I must have checked my e-mail a hundred times in that span of nine days. I had written her at least once every day, but up until that point there had been no reply.
My spirits skyrocketed when I saw that the lone message was from Anna. I hastily read through the contents of her message, thanking me for writing her while she was away, saying that she’d been having lots of fun and was very busy, it sounded like I was having fun back at home…then that while she had been there she had been doing a lot of thinking. My body became heavy in the chair, and somewhere in my head there was a switch as my thoughts and my emotions disconnected. This was not good. Everything within me braced for impact.
She had been doing lots of thinking, and she felt like she just needed to be single right now.
It wasn’t my fault, I had been great to her…
The words became a blur and now I felt adrenaline rushing into my bloodstream. I could have torn the house down with my bare hands if only I could have gotten out of that chair.
Did that really just happen? Did my girlfriend of fifteen months just dump me in an e-mail? Could this be the same girl who referred to me as "the love of my life"? I seemed to be standing beside myself, watching in horror the way people watch a train wreck at the moment they know it’s going to happen and there’s nothing that can stop it. The linchpin of my arrogance had just been pulled, and it was all about to come down.
That night it was all too strange to be real. I took the high road and wrote Anna back wishing her the best and asking that she call me so that I might gain some grasp on what had just happened and if I might ever have her back. That night I was cool and composed. I spent the late hours of the night driving around Omaha, smoking a cigar and believing that I was wise beyond my years. While I slept that night, my thoughts and emotions reconnected and my tower of ego came crashing to the ground. I woke up feeling more utterly broken than I ever have in my life. I spent the next day at work alone with my feet in the baby pool, crying like a lost child. In the month that followed, she never called.
I had never felt so rejected and unappreciated. Through fifteen months I had loved her with everything I had and I didn’t even have a phone call to show for it. The thing that made me furious, though, was that my identity had been swept out from under me in one little paragraph sent from thousands of miles away. I had based so much of my self-image and self-confidence on the fact that I was boyfriend to this incredible girl, that when that was taken from me I wasn’t sure who to be. I had never acknowledged the fact, but Anna had been the driving force in my life. Her belief in me had given me what I always lacked: True belief in myself.
She came into my world at a time when I had made numerous improvements to my lifestyle. I no longer got drunk four nights a week like I had when I was a freshman. I actually attended my classes and studied for my tests. I did my homework and switched to the major I had always wanted. Despite all these minor successes, my confidence in myself and enthusiasm for achievement was waning. At the time I started dating Anna in March of 2002, I was standing at the brink of slipping back into my bad habits. Spring break in South Padre had served more as a tool of exhaustion than refreshment, and I was getting sick of school. My drive had been slowly fading, and she was exactly the boost I needed. Once we were together, my desire to be impressive for her pushed me to excel. That added drive brought me added success, which put me into a cycle of achievement. The more I did, the more I was willing to take on. By mid-summer of 2003, I thought I could do anything. By the end of that same summer, I was so changed that I felt I could do nothing.
The change in me shocked my friends. As the oldest and arguably the wisest member of my social group, I had become a role model. My two roommates were more like little brothers than friends because they looked up to me for guidance and motivation. I had always been the level-headed one. I was always the one with the answers. I was the one who got everything right. Suddenly that all changed, and I was the one sitting at rock bottom and reaching out for help. I was the one spending his mornings in bed, sobbing uncontrollably and begging God for a second chance to be a good man to his beloved girl. I prayed over and over that I could just hold her in my arms again. When I looked at my eyes in the mirror, I could hardly recognize myself. That couldn’t be me; I didn’t do this. I didn’t lie helpless anywhere, I didn’t sob, and I certainly didn’t beg God for things.
With the help of my friends and especially my family, I slowly got back to normal. I was just starting to feel like my old self again when Anna made her triumphant return from Turkey and called me on my 21st birthday. It was hands down the worst phone conversation and worst birthday I have ever had. She was so excited to be home and tell somebody the stories of everything she’d seen and done that she couldn’t begin to fathom the anguish I’d been through. She claimed that she took her leave of me because of her belief that I didn’t support her future plans or her love of art. My protests that I loved her and wanted only the best for her did no good. She had made up her mind, and eventually I gave up on her and hung up the phone. I spent time with Anna on a few occasions in the week after that, but eventually the awkwardness that hung over everything we did was too much for me. I could tell that in her mind she was keeping me a safe distance outside of her world, and I couldn’t stand it. Adding insult to that injury, I came to learn that my suspicion that she took such hasty leave of me so that she could be free to have an exotic fling with another guy while in such an exotic locale had been dead on, right down to my theories on the prime suspect. For that I forgave her, because in truth, she was only returning the favor. For not giving either of us a second chance, I was not so quick to forgive. It tore me apart, but I called her one night and told her that I no longer wanted us to be part of each other’s lives. The hurt in her voice sticks with me to this day.
Since school started I have grown progressively more comfortable with the idea of being on my own, but I have to admit that the comfort comes and goes in cycles. Each time it comes back, though, it’s a little bit stronger. I can honestly say that I’ve gotten back to being my goofball self. I am having fun again, and each day it gets a little bit easier to hop out of bed and think that something great just might happen that day. I am learning to be proud and successful for my own sake, not just because I think I have to impress a girl. I As of right now, I would say I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.
Since I was doing just fine, wouldn’t you know it…I saw Anna while I was on my way to class last Wednesday. It had been roughly a month since I had seen her or talked to her. She smiled and looked thrilled to see me, but if my face matched the way I felt then I must have gawked at her as though she had three heads. I was so shocked to see her that it never occurred to me to stop and say something, but in the last moment before I passed her I could see that she was saddened by my reaction. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about that moment almost constantly. Much though I spent months trying to convince myself otherwise, I still know that despite everything I love her deeply and would take her back if I had the chance…and as I put the finishing touches on this essay, my phone rings. I look at the clock and see that it is 2:25 AM. I can’t imagine who would be calling me so late or for what reason. I take the phone out of my pocket and stare in disbelief at the two words spelled out on its glowing green screen: “Anna Calling”
“So I forget about her, and then when she comes back, I just pretend to have forgotten about her?”
“Right…only more likely the opposite.
“What?”
“Well at first you just pretend to forget about her, but eventually you really do forget.”
“And what if she comes back before I forget?”
“See, that’s the thing…somehow they know not to come back until you really forget.”
-Swingers
I know a lot of guys who would say that losing all the money in their wallet in one night is a traumatic event. On July 19, 2003, “all the money in my wallet” was ten dollars, and technically I hadn’t lost it. I’d gambled it away over the course of a poker night at my friend Devon’s house. I certainly wasn’t happy about the loss of my precious cash, but it was only a dollar more than an hour’s wage. I would have earned the money back by 1:00 the next afternoon. Besides, I love to play poker so it was more like paying $10 to be entertained. It was a loss from which I could easily recover. What I didn’t know was that when I arrived home, I would suffer a loss from which I still have not recovered.
Perhaps I should give you a little background on what my life was like up until that memorable poker night: I was in the midst of a mellow, yet enjoyable summer. I had just finished my junior year of college and gotten excellent grades. I made $9 an hour as a lifeguard and had 8 rescues, so I suppose on some level that made me a hero. It made me well-tanned and well-paid at the very least. I was having a great time partying with my friends and finally getting to spend lots of time with my girlfriend, Anna. Things with me and Anna were better than they’d ever been.
In the year and three months we’d been dating, we had always gotten along very well, but busy schedules and ever-changing locations kept us from seeing each other as much as we would have liked. During our first summer I made frequent trips from Omaha to Lincoln so that I could spend time with her. During the school year we were lucky to get five hours together in a week despite the fact that my dorm room was directly above hers. Finally, though, we had a summer where we were both in the same city and relatively unscheduled. I couldn’t have been happier. She meant the world to me, and I meant as much to her. The school year was done, Anna was there with me and I no longer had to answer to other girls when they so suggestively asked, “Where’s your girlfriend?” No matter what had gone wrong in my day, the moment I saw her face everything was better. My summer was going perfectly. I had good grades, a good job, the cool house where everybody wanted to party, a beautiful girlfriend who loved me…you name it. In my mind’s eye, I was the shit. Did you notice how that description is written in past-tense? Ah, what a difference a day makes…
I returned home from poker night in much better spirits than when I had left. A good drive and some loud music almost always do wonders for my mood. It was past 2:00 AM, so I figured I would just grab a glass of milk, check my e-mail and be off to bed. My figuring was all wrong. Steps one and two of the process went precisely as planned, but what waited for me in the e-mail was as unpredictable as it was surreal. I typed in my login name and password as I had done thousands of times before, and found that I had just one new message. Already I was getting excited.
Anna was in Turkey for an archaeological project. She had been gone nine days, which left 26 days until she came home…but who was counting? I had yet to hear from her, and I was becoming worried for her safety. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was becoming worried for the safety of our relationship. I hadn’t spent a moment away from my phone since she’d been gone, and I must have checked my e-mail a hundred times in that span of nine days. I had written her at least once every day, but up until that point there had been no reply.
My spirits skyrocketed when I saw that the lone message was from Anna. I hastily read through the contents of her message, thanking me for writing her while she was away, saying that she’d been having lots of fun and was very busy, it sounded like I was having fun back at home…then that while she had been there she had been doing a lot of thinking. My body became heavy in the chair, and somewhere in my head there was a switch as my thoughts and my emotions disconnected. This was not good. Everything within me braced for impact.
She had been doing lots of thinking, and she felt like she just needed to be single right now.
It wasn’t my fault, I had been great to her…
The words became a blur and now I felt adrenaline rushing into my bloodstream. I could have torn the house down with my bare hands if only I could have gotten out of that chair.
Did that really just happen? Did my girlfriend of fifteen months just dump me in an e-mail? Could this be the same girl who referred to me as "the love of my life"? I seemed to be standing beside myself, watching in horror the way people watch a train wreck at the moment they know it’s going to happen and there’s nothing that can stop it. The linchpin of my arrogance had just been pulled, and it was all about to come down.
That night it was all too strange to be real. I took the high road and wrote Anna back wishing her the best and asking that she call me so that I might gain some grasp on what had just happened and if I might ever have her back. That night I was cool and composed. I spent the late hours of the night driving around Omaha, smoking a cigar and believing that I was wise beyond my years. While I slept that night, my thoughts and emotions reconnected and my tower of ego came crashing to the ground. I woke up feeling more utterly broken than I ever have in my life. I spent the next day at work alone with my feet in the baby pool, crying like a lost child. In the month that followed, she never called.
I had never felt so rejected and unappreciated. Through fifteen months I had loved her with everything I had and I didn’t even have a phone call to show for it. The thing that made me furious, though, was that my identity had been swept out from under me in one little paragraph sent from thousands of miles away. I had based so much of my self-image and self-confidence on the fact that I was boyfriend to this incredible girl, that when that was taken from me I wasn’t sure who to be. I had never acknowledged the fact, but Anna had been the driving force in my life. Her belief in me had given me what I always lacked: True belief in myself.
She came into my world at a time when I had made numerous improvements to my lifestyle. I no longer got drunk four nights a week like I had when I was a freshman. I actually attended my classes and studied for my tests. I did my homework and switched to the major I had always wanted. Despite all these minor successes, my confidence in myself and enthusiasm for achievement was waning. At the time I started dating Anna in March of 2002, I was standing at the brink of slipping back into my bad habits. Spring break in South Padre had served more as a tool of exhaustion than refreshment, and I was getting sick of school. My drive had been slowly fading, and she was exactly the boost I needed. Once we were together, my desire to be impressive for her pushed me to excel. That added drive brought me added success, which put me into a cycle of achievement. The more I did, the more I was willing to take on. By mid-summer of 2003, I thought I could do anything. By the end of that same summer, I was so changed that I felt I could do nothing.
The change in me shocked my friends. As the oldest and arguably the wisest member of my social group, I had become a role model. My two roommates were more like little brothers than friends because they looked up to me for guidance and motivation. I had always been the level-headed one. I was always the one with the answers. I was the one who got everything right. Suddenly that all changed, and I was the one sitting at rock bottom and reaching out for help. I was the one spending his mornings in bed, sobbing uncontrollably and begging God for a second chance to be a good man to his beloved girl. I prayed over and over that I could just hold her in my arms again. When I looked at my eyes in the mirror, I could hardly recognize myself. That couldn’t be me; I didn’t do this. I didn’t lie helpless anywhere, I didn’t sob, and I certainly didn’t beg God for things.
With the help of my friends and especially my family, I slowly got back to normal. I was just starting to feel like my old self again when Anna made her triumphant return from Turkey and called me on my 21st birthday. It was hands down the worst phone conversation and worst birthday I have ever had. She was so excited to be home and tell somebody the stories of everything she’d seen and done that she couldn’t begin to fathom the anguish I’d been through. She claimed that she took her leave of me because of her belief that I didn’t support her future plans or her love of art. My protests that I loved her and wanted only the best for her did no good. She had made up her mind, and eventually I gave up on her and hung up the phone. I spent time with Anna on a few occasions in the week after that, but eventually the awkwardness that hung over everything we did was too much for me. I could tell that in her mind she was keeping me a safe distance outside of her world, and I couldn’t stand it. Adding insult to that injury, I came to learn that my suspicion that she took such hasty leave of me so that she could be free to have an exotic fling with another guy while in such an exotic locale had been dead on, right down to my theories on the prime suspect. For that I forgave her, because in truth, she was only returning the favor. For not giving either of us a second chance, I was not so quick to forgive. It tore me apart, but I called her one night and told her that I no longer wanted us to be part of each other’s lives. The hurt in her voice sticks with me to this day.
Since school started I have grown progressively more comfortable with the idea of being on my own, but I have to admit that the comfort comes and goes in cycles. Each time it comes back, though, it’s a little bit stronger. I can honestly say that I’ve gotten back to being my goofball self. I am having fun again, and each day it gets a little bit easier to hop out of bed and think that something great just might happen that day. I am learning to be proud and successful for my own sake, not just because I think I have to impress a girl. I As of right now, I would say I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.
Since I was doing just fine, wouldn’t you know it…I saw Anna while I was on my way to class last Wednesday. It had been roughly a month since I had seen her or talked to her. She smiled and looked thrilled to see me, but if my face matched the way I felt then I must have gawked at her as though she had three heads. I was so shocked to see her that it never occurred to me to stop and say something, but in the last moment before I passed her I could see that she was saddened by my reaction. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about that moment almost constantly. Much though I spent months trying to convince myself otherwise, I still know that despite everything I love her deeply and would take her back if I had the chance…and as I put the finishing touches on this essay, my phone rings. I look at the clock and see that it is 2:25 AM. I can’t imagine who would be calling me so late or for what reason. I take the phone out of my pocket and stare in disbelief at the two words spelled out on its glowing green screen: “Anna Calling”
posted by Beav at 7:15 PM
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