30 Till 30 | A Decade of Heartbreak
Don’t worry, this will be lighthearted
I’ve written extensively of a singular ex in the last month—and that’s about as much airtime as I want to give him. But it really had me thinking of all of the “loves” of my twenties and what they all had in common besides, well, me. So let’s break them down using pseudonyms because people like to perpetuate the idea that cancel culture is real, and I can’t be accused of siccing ten people (at MOST) on a handful of unsuspecting white guys! (OH, that’s another thing they had in common!)
The High School Fling
We were each our best kept secrets insofar as neither of our parents knew about each other, our friends on the other hand? They knew all the details—it was high school, what do you want me to say? Someone had to fuel the rumor mill. What’s funny is that we never had a single class together, we just knew each other. He was student body adjacent and I was giggling at the song ‘Totally Fucked’ from Spring Awakening with the choir kids in the halls (I wasn’t in choir, they just deigned to be my friend). He played tennis and I was in yearbook; this is starting to sound like that Taylor Swift song. Anyways—we ran in different circles, and yet. The attraction was still palpable, and the first ones always are! Especially when you’re still in the closet.
For the straights—being closeted SUCKS so much because we get to see all of you do the things we want to do, but can’t. And so when we do it, it gets all bottled up and contained and volatile and that stress is exciting. Will it break? Will everyone find out? IDK MEET ME BEHIND THE 500 BUILDING BETWEEN 6TH AND 7TH PERIOD.
We lasted for all of senior year, doing our thing in private. And now he’s dead.
To me. Moving on…
The Long-Distance Collegiate Paramour
We met on Twitter. He slid into my DMs. He lived across the country.
We were doomed from the start.
Go to any of these posts:
And that’s all we’ll say on that.
The…Oh, Wait, is that all?
Okay, so my love life isn’t quite as colorful. Not the serious ones anyways. These three men really did paint the roadmap of my relationships, and sometimes it only takes one to set you down the path. None of these guys worked out and all but one never even met my parents! Yet they all taught me lessons that I won’t ever forget:
The High School Fling taught me that anything worth having shouldn’t be had in private.
The Long-Distance Collegiate Paramour taught me that communication is great, but that I deserve someone who’s actually present.
And The Cheater taught me my worth, and how so few men out there really deserve me.
Have there been other men, yeah, of course, but they’ve either turned out to be wholly inconsequential or stories that are still being written.
Stories that I’d rather keep writing in private until they’re finished or ready to be shared—and not a minute sooner.