Since this is a public blog, I have kept many sordid details of my sordid past under wraps. Most of this sordid-ity has to do with the major relationships in my life–not that the relationships themselves were sordid, but that the manner in which they each imploded is pretty epic. In their aftermath, I tended to focus on the relationship’s demise, choosing to not acknowledge the positive things. Today was a day where the positive things about one particular boy came rushing back to me, almost at every corner I turned, in a way that I haven’t experienced in a long time.
This boy is the one that I tend to think of as the one that got away.
Except he didn’t quite get away as much as he up and moved to Utah and started dating someone else and didn’t tell me about it for three months, all the time leading me to believe that we were still a couple.
But I digress.
MTGA was a complete computer nerd. A lovable computer nerd. A lovable computer nerd who had no problem seeing me as an equal nerd, capable of soaking up whatever IT knowledge he had to share. So when I had computer problems, I went to him, learned everything I could, and even though it’s been almost exactly 10 years since we broke up, I’ve retained much of that computer training. Not only that, he gave me a language and a confidence in troubleshooting computers. He never made me feel like I was stupid, he just talked me through each step and told me I could fix it.
So when my friend Lynne called me today, wanting help with her wireless router, I was able to go to her home, troubleshoot the modem, call tech support and understand the commands they gave me, and fix everything for her wireless internet connection. She asked how I knew so much about computers. I told her. It was him.
I found a CD on my shelf, a mix CD from about 10 years ago. Decided to listen to it to see if there was anything worth keeping. And it was an auditory scrapbook of our relationship.
The song that played at a wedding reception we attended. There were tiny hearts and stars confetti all over the tables that we threw at each other and were still finding in our shoes and in my purse the next day at Stake Conference.
The song that played during the first major snowstorm we drove around in. He sure did like the R&B.
The song he made me listen to at least three times on our first date. Ironic…our first date was to see Armageddon…
The song that he played me as we went to Menard’s on some type of supply trip. He was always catching me up on music I missed while I was on my mission. Weird what kinds of memories songs can trigger.
The song that played–no joke–as we drove up to Mount Timpanogos to have the conversation that effectively ended our relationship. About halfway through the song, he turned it off. I knew what was coming at that moment. It would take another three years after that before we would stop talking altogether.
And as I drove around town today, on roads that I used to drive with him every other weekend, listening to these songs, I really wasn’t sad. About once or twice a year, I miss talking to him. But today I cognitively felt a fondness for our relationship, even though it didn’t work out.
I need to find ways to find fondness for other things in my life…that might be tough, given the week that lies ahead for me. But it’s a good goal to have, right?
