Week 17: Someone Who Broke My Heart

It appears you can't trust me anymore when I say, "I'm going to blog about it tomorrow." Blogging, unfortunately, takes a back burner to sleeping, doing dishes, and working. It makes me sad, but there it is. However, I do want to keep blogging (and reading blogs) so thank you for putting up with my inconsistency. The reason you get a post today is because we have a bit of a new routine where I get pieces of Thursday evenings to myself, but not at home. So I'm writing this post from the library. There's free wifi, I'm drinking a Coke, and I'm surrounded by books. It's not really that bad a deal :)

So on with the writing challenge, someone who broke my heart. Originally I was going to write about how my best friend in high school, Kim, met a guy while we were out cruising 8th St and then set me up with his best friend so we could double date. I snuck out of the house (meaning I told my dad I was going to hang out with Kim and forgot to mention the boys) to meet up with Kim and the guys. The friend and I were getting along quite well, but then the age question arose. I was eighteen. It turned out he was sixteen. Or maybe even fifteen. Which was the kiss of death for our romantic relationship.

But then, as I was looking though old pictures, to find one of Kim and I, I found some other pictures. And they reminded me of a more serious heartbreak. So that's what you get to hear about instead.

The summer I was nineteen, I got home from university and didn't have a job. I ended up moving to the mountains to work as a maid in a hotel. The work sucked, but Hello! There were mountains! I shared a cabin with Alexis and she was a great cabin mate. On our days off we had lots of adventures like downhill skiing (above is us prepared for summer skiing -- sexy high-waisted shorts and all!) and white water rafting (below -- you can't tell, but I am wearing shorts (probably the same ones) under that jacket). This was the summer I discovered my inner pool-shark. It was pretty awesome.

We staff all had a lot of fun that summer -- hanging out and partying. I later found out that when I got off the bus to start the summer, some of the staff saw me in my pristine jeans and white sweater and decided I needed to be corrupted. I did enjoy sampling various drinks (I was nineteen - it was legal) but in other ways I wasn't so corruptible. For instance, I refused to sleep with anyone. Which is what led to my heartbreak.

Above are C and K. 

For posterity's sake, they will remain somewhat anonymous.

One night a guy showed up. (Is it bad that I can't remember his name? I think it might have been Sean. That's what I'll call him for the sake of this post) I think he was working construction somewhere and he was staying at our hotel for a few weeks. He was cute and the first evening I like to think I impressed him with my pool skills. The next day all of us in housekeeping, including C, were talking about him and I was looking forward to more flirting and pool that evening.

At the end of the evening, after more pool (and yes, flirting) I went to bed, alone. The next morning I woke up and got to work cleaning. C had the day off and I was on to clean up Sean's room. I knocked on the door and went in to clean. Sean was gone, but, to my horror, C was in his bed.

I was stunned.

I spent the next few days avoiding C and Sean and trying to recover. The real knife in the heart was when Sean left, C and I were scheduled to work together. She was totally bummed about him leaving and I spent the next week cleaning rooms with her, forced to listen to Air Supply's greatest hits for EIGHT HOURS A DAY. I honestly don't know if that was worse than the actual fact of the two of them together.

I don't remember the timing of all this, but around the beginning of July, K's two male friends came to visit her. Well, there was pretty much instant attraction between me and one of them (as I found out later, fortunately it was NOT the one K was interested in as "more than a friend"). K generously invited me to spend a few days with them, and the night before the guys left, D and I stayed up all night talking, just about got eaten by a bear (Ha!), and the rest as they say, is history.

D became my first serious boyfriend and we were together for almost a year before I decided I wouldn't be spending the rest of my life with him.

Ah young love.