Mr. Self Destruct
So somewhere betweeen christmas and new year’s of my twelfth grade year, my girlfriend Lyss had a house party at which her older brother was to supply booze, Lyss was to supply boys, and us–her friends–were to supply bubbly 17 year old femininity. We ended up congregating together in her parent’s basement, and while the girls sat together playing mariokart and giggling profusely, boys started pouring in.
Max* was interested in me from moment one. He sat way too close, laughed too much at my jokes, and choked down a shot of my JD (at this point, banana liquer was still the drink of choice for most of this crowd…not the case for me so much but that is another post altogether) without too much of my provocation. I wasn’t too interested off the bat–looks were never his forte–but he was interesting and fun to talk to, so I gave him my number and never thought I would see him again.
…turns out that we ended up going out on a double date a few weeks later with my girlfriend Meg and his best friend Derek. I was so confused that night–he had invited me on this date and spent the whole night talking to Meg and ignoring me. I was crushed..until I got the hint that this was simply his idea of game. He asked me to be his girlfriend a week later.
The first few weeks dating Max were golden–he was thrilled that he “landed” me (apparently awkward highschool drama geeks are “catches”) and I was thrilled that he knew as much as I did about star wars. eventually though, Max got super duper jealous. I’ve always had 2/3 guy:girl friends, and max tried to get me to drop my guys. Max would call me every half hour if I was out with my girlfriends. I couldn’t drink because he didn’t like it. He tried to make me quit smoking.
…eventually it was enough.
I broke up with him outside a starbucks, thinking he wouldn’t cause a scene. He bawled and screamed and made me look like an ass. I walked away feeling powerful…and with new numbers in my cell phone.
I hear he hasn’t had a date since I broke his heart.
I would never date him again, but he definitely taught me what I won’t stand for. Crying more than me is one of those criteria.
you live. you learn.
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