The Story of Our Love: Part 1 – Beginnings

He was engaged when I met him. He had just asked V (she had once been his high school sweetheart) to marry him over dinner with a ring she had picked out herself. He told me because I asked him (I am deeply interested in real life love stories). We worked together at a video store. For me it was a part time job with easy access to time wasting material. For him it was a means for extra money while he made his way through student and substitute teaching. I wasn’t particularly attracted to him at first; I had a boyfriend and things were going well, at the time. But, I flirted anyway (because that’s what I do). We became friends.

The trouble started when I suggested we exchange books. I was horrified that he had never read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because the humour reminded me so much of his own. That started a back-and-forth exchange of novels which became an exchange of inside-jokes which morphed somewhere along the line into one step short of an affair.

I used to live for the nights we worked together; the brush of his hand against mine. I flirted recklessly, without heed, without any sense of responsibility for his relationship or my own.

Then one night on a drunken staff outing we found ourselves at the bar: touching, laughing, bantering. I pulled him into an empty stairwell and changed both our lives. It didn’t matter that he was planning an increasingly frustrating wedding or that I was on my way to Florida with my boyfriend. All that mattered was that in the moment he was the perfect man for me. So I kissed him. Long and deep and everlasting. Beautiful Gobstopper kisses.

Afterwards, I couldn’t believe what I had done. He disappeared and I was left searching for my jacket with the help of his brother, J. I felt like a sinking ship, desperate to hold on to anything that might float. So I made out with him, too.

And that was how we began.

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9 thoughts on “The Story of Our Love: Part 1 – Beginnings”

  1. … how you began with his brother, or with HIM?!

    Everlasting -> Gobstopper was a touch of genius.

    Your posts are like 1-page summaries of epic novels.

    And now that you’ve broken up, you have a whole new well of sorrow to tap! Woo!

  2. How I began with both… it was a complex and slightly slutty time in my life. lol No, the story is about Him not his brother. J is a minor side note.

    And the 1-page summary comment I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not…

    I hope I don’t come off as too sorrowful because I’m not really.

    1. It’s a complete compliment. I wish I could write as succinctly and poignantly.

      You don’t strike me as the kind of person that lingers on unpleasant thoughts, or emotions, or experiences.

      Onwards, to the next fun moment in time 🙂

      1. Exactly! Thus the writing these unpleasant moments down because if I don’t I easily forget them and then end up making the same mistakes over and over and… over and over… again. Actually, I do that anyway.

        1. I’m so bad (or good?) and linger so little that I don’t even write it down — just flit on to the next happy circumstance.

          But it makes my old LiveJournal very boring reading… without all the bad bits! I wish I’d written them down now, just for fun!

  3. The bad bits are the best bits as memories. Sugar-coating history is natural, but a shame. I like reading old entries and being equal parts horrified and nostalgic: “Past-Lindsay! Bad! You horrible slut! You realize this will be your claim to fame for years to come. In the words of Jennifer Aniston: So uncool. *secret high-five*”

    1. Hehe; I have no problem recalling them… I just don’t linger.

      I’d love to see how I describe them though.

      There are like… two posts on my LiveJournal which I disabled commenting on, and they were one-liners like ‘Well, that sucked.’ I think they were when girls broke up with me…

      How much of Friends can you quote with alarming accuracy? 😛

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