I had one encounter I’m sure most people dread: bumping into an ex with whom I shared a breakup that was anything but civil. I was walking into the local library one Sunday afternoon. I passed the circulation desk on my way towards the reference section, when what to my wandering eyes should appear? My ex of years prior, checking out books, I fear! I kept looking ahead of me as I walked, as if to have not noticed her the second she glanced in my direction as I walked by within about two or three feet of her. I’m quite sure she saw and recognized me just as I saw and recognized her, but seeing as how our last exchange essentially boiled down to both of us saying “don’t ever talk to me again”, I kept right on walking, so I guess it would be a stretch to call it an encounter, but it sure got my heart to skip a beat. Or five.
I grew up in the country and had a male cousin (Lee) my age who grew up in Memphis. Whenever our families would visit (mostly in the country) I admired him so much. He was popular, handsome, had “good” curly hair and was funny. The summer after I graduated from high school, I got a job in Memphis and he asked his parents if I could live with them (they would’ve let me anyway); we shared a room.
I was 17y.o., very shy and average looking and admired his good qualities and his cool, rich friends he introduced me to and who befriended me. Still struggling with my sexuality, I met a guy (20y.o.) and we began dating. Sometimes he’d pick me up at the house and Lee began to ask who he was. He finally figured it out and asked me: I didn’t lie.
My cousin stopped speaking to me, moved out of the bedroom and told everybody – his parents (who were quite homophobic), our many other cousins in the area, and all of his/my friends. It was towards the end of summer; his parents cooled but didn’t kick me out and, at the end of summer, Lee and I left for different colleges.
Because of what happened, for many years I didn’t go back to Memphis because I was still embarrased and hurt.
Fastforward 20 years, a college degree and a fairly “successful” life in NYC (with some extensive world travel), I finally go back to visit.
I find out Lee had (i) come out of the closet; (ii) dropped out of college his freshman year and was a loader at Fedex; (iii) was a crackhead and, for a few years, had lived on the streets and had been a prostitute.
I don’t mean to sound small (but I will do it anyway). When I saw him, he looked 60 and like he’d been rode hard put away wet - many times. I’m still average looking, but I’ve kept a healthy lifestyle, work out often and am still told I look like I’m 30-35.
When I saw him, I just said “hi,” nothing else and kept going.
In high school, I dated a girl named Cheryl for about 3 months or so. I ended up breaking it off because she became way too obsessive and WAY too whiny and clingy. She would literally call me every weekday during dinner and call me at least 3 times on Saturdays and Sundays just to see what I was doing. Every day in school she would pass me at least 5 notes saying how much she loved me.
As I said… WAY too obsessive. Most likely I was the first guy she ever dated. The breakup for her was devastating. Pretty much all of senior year she just moped around. Her younger sister would come up to me once in awhile and say, “Cheryl wants you to call her sometime.”
Anyways, about 4 years later I’m a sophomore in college and now have a steady girlfriend (We will call her S). We are waiting in line at a McDonalds and S decides she wants to be all lovey-dovey and starts putting her arms around me and kissing me. As she is doing this (and I wasn’t about to complain either) I look up and there is Cheryl behind the counter just staring at me in disbelief. Apparently she never did get over me. I kind of felt sorry for her because she never was able to get on with her life, but then we were just kids back then. It was high school. She should have gotten over it.
Just back in August, I ran into an old…acquaintance. She had lived on my street. From first through seventh grade she did everything she could, up to and including physical violence, to make my life hell. A lot of the time she succeeded (it’s hard to ignore the playground bully when they’re throwing rocks at you).
I ran into her this past August, out bowling with a friend from home when I was visiting my parents. She didn’t recognize me at first, then she did. “Aren’t you…?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“I didn’t realize you had a social life,” she sneered. As if we were back in seventh grade again.
I just pointed out that a lot can change in nine years, and walked away.
Apparently, she still lives with her parents, has been in drug rehab (note: we’re both 21), and now works as a waitress at Hooters. I really can’t muster any sympathy for her.