Something told me that the last week of school was going to be insane, but no amount of foretelling prepared me for waking up that Sunday morning.
“Hey. Is everything ok?” I asked my friend.
While, with my own guy the night before, I had received a drunken call from my friend who I met in second grade, but being hundreds of miles away from her I just had to wait there and let her boyfriend (who was also drunk at the time) take care of the situation.
“I broke up with my boyfriend,” my friend said.
“Really?”
“I really got to see another side of him last night that I don’t really want to see again.”
The night of drunk behavior and a morning reflection of everything that has taken place over the past month led my best friend to realize that she and her (now ex-boyfriend) weren’t nearly as compatible as she had previously thought. Her (now ex) agreed and, for the most part, it was a normal and clean break up—that is until I got another call from my friend a couple days later.
“You know that night before I broke up with my ex?” my friend said.
“Yeah, of course.”
“Well, I called HIM that night too—“
Hundreds of miles away in Oregon, my friend’s childhood crush had been spoon-fed a whole lot of drama about my friend and her current dating situation at the time. She confided in him and opened up a slightly different can of worms.
“—He told me that he’s driving down here tomorrow.”
“I thought he was supposed to come later,” I said in total confusion.
“Yeah he was, ha-ha, but I’m happy anyways.”
Ha-ha, it’s funny now that I think about it. All this time we were trying to go to Oregon when, in the end, Oregon came to us.
Within days after breaking up with her previous boyfriend, my friend was found hanging out with her long time love from her past, and it was unlike anything the two had ever felt before. It was like they both picked up where they left off, both transfixed in each other’s presence.
That weekend, my guy and I added to the whole romantic atmosphere circling around in the lower half of California. Somewhere, in-between his gentle embrace one night, the guy I was seeing told me that he wanted me to be his girlfriend. I looked at him directly in his kind eyes and told him that I wanted him to be my boyfriend.
For a moment, I forgot all about the hundreds of miles that were just about to be wedged in-between us that summer, just as my best friend let the whole the-love-of-my-life-is-going-back-to-Oregon-after-a-month thing slip her mind—but only for a moment.
To read the journey from the beginning click here.
Jazzed About Stuff 