I was seventeen, he was eighteen when we started dating. I was shy when it came to boys, so he was my first kiss, my first date, my first love, my first everything.
We were both college students, so money was scarce, yet he insisted on buying me a ring, despite me never having thought about one. All he could afford was this li’l diamond chip, bought with money from his student loan. Money that he didn’t have to spare. He was incredibly generous and spoiled me at every turn with gifts.
The ring became my most prized possession and it seldom left my finger. I recall no one being impressed with it, other than myself, I recall my aunt scoffing at it, but I didn’t care.
We dated for five years, made plans to marry, even chose names for our kids. We had the kind of love Savage Garden sang about – we were truly, madly, deeply in love with each other. Trust me when I say that we couldn’t keep our hands off each other – every deserted spot became a passionate make-out point, and oh, the passion!
However, as the years passed, something weird happened to me – I grew restless and longed for greener pastures.
My desire to venture away from him hurt and confused him, so we argued all the time about it. Eventually, we agreed that I would venture out in the wide world, and he would wait for me. When I returned home, we would marry, settle down and go on to have two children, a dog, a cat and fish in a tank.
Best. Laid. Plans.
Alas, the moment I left my city, my future husband and the father of my children was quickly snapped up by a close mutual ‘friend’, one who had encouraged me to go out and ‘taste the world before settling down.’ That kind of ‘friend.’ (How ‘bout that? You’ve got a friend like that? You do? Careful now …)
So, I returned home to claim him, only to find that he was no longer mine. Despite it being mainly my fault for leaving, I felt a sense of profound loss.
My dented ego and I moved on to greener, bigger and maybe even better, true, but, I could never forgot the boy I had left behind, the boy I had lost because of my need to see the world. The boy who gave me my first diamond ring. My first diamond chip, actually. The boy who gave me all he could, all he had, all the time.
I had my ring, though. She had him and I had his ring. I sound like that Patsy Cline song, She’s Got You, right?
I've got your picture,
That you gave to me
And it's signed with love
Just like it used to be
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got your picture
She's got you
I moved to a different country, got married to a great guy, had children and achieved all that I had dreamed of, and even some of what I had never dreamed of.
Yet, I always thought about him - What are you doing now? Did you end up doing this, did you end up buying that? Are you happy now? How happy? Happier with her than with me? You are?
Then, years later, to my surprise, I get a friend request from him on Facebook.
I was shocked – my ex-boyfriend wants to friend me on Facebook?
Can’t be him. Not after all these years.
I checked out his profile – it’s him! OMG!!!!
With shaking hands, I accepted his request. Then then followed the lengthy online chats and emojis. (We lived in different countries, remember?)
Him: So, I finally found you. You hiding from me?
Me: Hey! Good to make contact with you again.
Him: Great to make contact with you. Wonderful in fact. We’re actually talking. Amazing! Wow!
His adjectives – I looooved them!
Me: Smiley face.
Him: Smiley face jumping up and down.
Me: Lol emoji
Me: How is the wife?
Not that I wanted to know about her. I really don’t know why I even asked about her. Maybe, subconsciously, I wanted to hear that they had broken up. Divorced. She was doing badly – had a problem with various methamphetamines and alcohol, is in prison for murder … a rejected girl could hope, right?
Him: She’s okay.
Okay? Damn!
Moving on - in a quest to keep it light, I fired more safe questions at him.
Me: The kids?
Me: Work?
Him: All good. Kids grown, taller than me. Smart too.
Me: Same here. My kids know it all. They know everything. Seriously.
Him: Lol.
Me: From the age of five, they knew it all and I could teach them nothing. |
Him: Sounds like someone we both know. Lol!
Him: Mm. Hey, you remember you once bought me a chain while we were dating?
Me: Um ...
Me: You mean the silver one? Y?
Him: Still got it.
Me: What!
Him: Use it all the time.
Me: U serious?
Him: Absolutely. It’s my most prized possession.
His most prized possession? I felt like I’ve swallowed a handful of sunbeams. His most prized possession? OMG!
Me: Can’t believe it. Would love to see a pic.
Him: Hold on, will take one. Am wearing it now.
Me: Now? OMG!
Bristling with excitement, I waited for the picture. After a few minutes, I saw the chain, cheap, sterling silver. Really cheap.
My emotions were all over the place. I laughed with delight, yet cringed at its cheapness. He’s on the flashy side – gold chains, BMW, designer labels. So, I was surprised that he’d wear something so simple.
Me: OMG! Cringing.
Him: Don’t.
Me: Wow! Does wifey know ‘bout it?
Listen, I had to ask, okay?
Him: She thinks my mom gave it to me.
Me: Wow!
That’s cheating, right? What a lie! I loved it!
Me: Seriously… wow!
Him: Yep!
Me: Hey, guess what?
Him: What?
Me: I still have your ring.
A short pause before he responds:
Him: U kidding me?
Me: Nope. I have it.
Him: Seriously?
Me: Seriously.
Him: Wow!
Him: You use it?
Me: No, for obvious reasons, but I think of you whenever I see it.
Me: Seriously.
Another short pause before he responds.
Him: Weepy emoji
Awwww! I nod to myself, a lump forming in my throat. I stop typing.
Him: Can’t explain it. Tears emoji.
I smile.
Him: Kiss emoji.
My smile broadens, despite that lump in my throat.
Him: Can I see a photo? Can’t remember what it looks like. Have an idea though.
Me: Okay, I will send u one tomorrow.
Him: Now.
Me: Can’t. People around. Sorry.
Him: Now
Me: Tomorrow
Him: Pouting emoji.
Me: Smiling emoji. Still a big baby, huh?
Him: Yep.
Me: Smiley face emoji. Gotta go.
Him: Wait!
Him: Same
Him: time
Him: tomorrow?
I think about it before I answer. Will I be at my laptop tomorrow this time?
Him: Say yes. I really wanna talk to u. You’ve been on my mind for so long n there’s so much to talk about. Right?
Him: Catch up.
Him: Please!
Me: K talk tomorrow.
Him: Cool. Supercool. Three smiley emojis.
People weren’t around – my nails weren’t done, that’s all!
That evening, in a delightful daze, I softened and pushed back my cuticles, exfoliated my hands, painted my nails a pretty blue and took a picture of me wearing his ring. My first piece of gold I had ever received from anyone. If only my fingers weren’t so fat, I thought as I inspected the photos. The next day, I sent them to him.
His reply was immediate.
Him: Wow!
Him: Cheap ass! Embarrassed to have bought u such a small diamond. Cringing, dying of embarrassment.
Me: Don’t. It’s one of my most prized possession, too. Kept it in the safe, tucked away behind all my other jewellery. Behind my last will and testament so that hubby wouldn’t find it and badger me into throwing it out. Like he did with all our photos.
That’s right, my husband made me burn all my photos.
That’s right, I was indirectly lying to my husband as well.
Him: I’m touched that you kept it. Hey, I remember the day I bought you the ring. You had this big grin on your face, and you kept waving your hands around so that everyone would notice.
Me: Lol! I remember, I do.
Him: You flashed it in every photo as if it was an 8 carat Harry Winston pink diamond or something the way u flashed it around.
A cold chill ran up my spine – did he give her an 8-carat Harry Winston pink diamond? Please let it not be true!
Him: U there?
Me: I remember that day like it was yesterday. You paid cash in small notes too. All your money was spent on the ring, so we couldn’t afford a fancy lunch that day. We shared a pizza and a coke.
Yes, somehow, we had ended up in a high-end jewellery store with snooty assistants, who looked down at us when they saw our pathetic budget.
Him: Yeah, I felt like shit – poor! But I was so excited to able to buy my girl a diamond ring!
Me: Yeah. It was beautiful.
Him: It was beautiful. Awesome memories, right?
I smiled as the memories welled in my eyes and trickled down my cheeks.
There was a long silence before he typed again.
Him: U there?
Me: Yeah. College kids like us had no business dabbling in the world of adults, huh? What went …
Him: What went wrong?
Silence.
Me: U there?
Him: Yep. Frog in my throat. Memories.
Me: Ditto.
Another silence.
Him: Besides the times when you look at the ring, do you …like, I mean, do you ever …think about me? About us?
For five years he was my life, my sweetheart, my future. We spent every spare moment together, we planned a dazzling life together, named our babies – what did he expect my answer to be?
Him: Honestly?
I was not expecting this question and I felt conflicted. My head and heart went headlong into battle:
Heart: Tell him the truth – Yes, I think of you. I think of you often. More than I should. I wonder how you're doing. I wonder if you’ve achieved all that you dreamed off. I wonder if you ever think of me, of us. I wonder if you hate me. If you love her the way you loved me. I wonder if you remember my birthday, ‘cause I never forget yours. I wonder –
Head: This man broke your heart – does he deserve the truth?
Heart: it doesn’t matter; water under the bridge. Tell him the truth.
Head: Do you really want to be vulnerable to a man who chose another over you?
Heart: It’s been years and I’ve really moved on, so –
Head: Despite your happy life, you’ve never gotten over the rejection. Just you remember that.
Heart: I left for greener pastures, remember?
Head: How quickly he got married. You’ve always wondered if he was having an affair while you were together, weren’t you? Does he deserve any truth?
Heart: Yes, but … Look, I … shaddup! Lemme think.
Him: U there? Yelllooooow?
I cleared my throat.
Me: You first.
Chicken.
Him: All the time.
Him: Every time I bought something new, achieved something, I thought of you. Anytime something monumental happened in my life, I don’t know why, but I thought of you. How nice it would be to tell you about it. Not because I wanted to showoff or something, but just because.”
I nestled into my cloak of smugness. He had thought about me. He thinks about me. All the time too. Wow!
Me: Like the time you got married? You called me that day, remember?
Him: Yeah, and you were such a bitch about it.
Me: What, you expected me to jump for joy?
He had no idea how painful that phone call was for me. How I pretended I didn’t care, all the while wanting to simply die at the finality of our break-up.
Him: Well, you could have -
Me: And she moved in with you right away, so clearly there was something going on between the two of you while we were dating! Of course, I was pissed off. With her and you. She stole you from me!!!!!
Him: But you left me for -
Me: And anyway, I challenge you to find a girl who says, Congratulations, ex-boyfriend of five years. Hope you and that bitch lives happily ever after like Shrek and Fiona,’ and does a joyful jig.
Him: Shrek? Ha! Ha!
Me: And did your wife know you called me that day?
Him: Of course not. She’d die if she knew.
Me: Mm. Why did you call me? I mean, how could you, on your wedding day of all days, call me, your ex-girlfriend? Something was wrong with that picture, boy.
Him: Yeah, don’t know what I was thinking.
Me: Me. Clearly you were thinking about me.
Him: Clearly, I was. Laughing emoji.
Bastard.
A short silence.
Him: Listen, babe, I have to deliver a lecture. Three actually. Can we chat in about four hours? And can I call you? Whatsapp you?
He called me babe again! Never did I imagine I would ever hear him utter that word again. It pierced through my very soul!
He called me babe again! Never did I imagine I would ever hear him utter that word again. It pierced through my very soul!
Him: Please, I really want to hear your voice. Please.
Me: I …
Me: Look …
Me: I really don’t …
Him: Just this once. Please! Here’s my number!
Him: Message me your number now.
I hesitated.
Him: Please!
Me: k
Him: Promise?
Me: I will.
Him: No, say you promise.
I smiled to myself.
Me: I promise.
Him: Cool – Three smiley faces emojis with sunglasses
Him: Xoxo.
I laughed and messaged him my number. How should I end the conversation, I wondered?
Xoxo? No, hugs and kisses – too forward for our first convo.
C u later? Too cold.
After much thought, I typed in five smiley faces and hit send. It was neutral enough and he could read into it whatever he liked.
I logged off and peered at the clock. Four hours.
I floated around to Patsy Cline’s, She’s got you, as I loaded the dishwasher, tidied the lounge, folded washing, fed the dog and cat and hastily assembled cheese sandwiches for dinner ( no time to cook, I’m too busy flirting with my ex!), all so that I could free up my time to talk to him in four hours.
To hear his voice after so many years – I didn’t think I ever would. The thought of it made me shiver with delight. I began to out-sing Patsy Cline.
I've got your picture
That you gave to me
And it's signed with love
Just like it used to be
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got your picture
She's got you!
I looked at the clock again. Only an hour has passed! Damn!
And who knew I could clean up this fast? Where did my energy come from?
When my phone rang three hours later (not four), with an out-of-Area signal on it, my mouth went dry and my hands felt clammy.
For a while, I stared at the phone, before I hit, ‘Decline.’
Why?
It took me a few moments to realize that I was not ready to take things further than an online conversation. At that moment.
He messaged me back to say that he understood that someone was probably around, and that he would call again. So understanding, right?
We continued our messaging and also began to email each other after that.
Over the next couple of days, we floated down memory lane, trading rich, often poignant memories and umpteen ‘Hey, remember that time …?’
He’s a funny, witty guy who always made me laugh. He told me that I had always made him laugh, so our days were heady and fun, and I darted for my phone each time it pinged, reading the messages with a smile, savoriness them, then re-reading them.
Despite not wanting to talk to him over the phone, I reached for my phone the moment I opened my eyes to read his messages, and sent him a message before I closed my eyes at night.
I felt alive, seventeen again, and I wandered through my days in a blissful state of nostalgia, belting out Kid Rock’s All Summer Long:
It was 1989, my thoughts were short my hair was long
Caught somewhere between a boy and man
She was seventeen and she was far from in-between
It was summertime in Northern Michigan
Yeah, despite me never having lived in Michigan, I sang out loud.
Then, as I was driving one day, head in the clouds, thinking about how my ex and I used to make plans to watch a movie marathon, get popcorn and chocolate and Coke ready and pizza for it, only to fall asleep ten minutes after the movie started, my sister called me to deliver some shattering news. My husband had discovered my emails with my ex and … he had been reading them for days!
According to her, he was so upset, he had reached out to her. He told her not to say anything to me, as he would confront me about it soon.
But, of course, my sister couldn’t stay silent, so she told me.
She sounded angry, but I knew her well enough to know that she was afraid of what was going to happen.
I was so stunned by what I had heard, I missed my turnoff, almost hit another car and had motorists honk and scream abuse at me, Eventually had to pull the car over to the side of the road to steady my shaking hands.
My husband had known all along? Yet, he had not confronted me about it? Why?
Then, I remembered that he had been a little snappy with me the day before, something I took little notice of. I guess I was so wrapped up with my ex and our ring and our trips down Memory Lane, that I had failed to pay attention to my husband’s change in demeanor.
Apparently, my husband was in tears when he had spoke to my sister about my shenanigans.
In tears?
My husband was a big man – six-foot-five, a burly, black-skinned biker with dreads, and I had never seen him tear-up before, so I felt terrible to have reduced him like that.
Knowing that my husband had read every detail of our messages – about the ring, my memories, the children’s names my ex and I had discussed … damn! I could just imagine his hurt.
What a mess I had created. I needed to fix it. The question was: how?
I was nervous to return home. What was in store for me?
Nothing.
That’s right, when I returned home, my husband said nothing to me; he just looked at me with probing eyes, while I avoided his. When I did meet his eyes, I saw the hurt. That’s when I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
Bull by the horns – I cried as I put my arms around him and apologized. Profusely. After which, I went on to do everything I could to make it up to him, because I loved him dearly.
We fought and he yelled many things at me:
“It’s cheating! Messaging each other is fucking cheating!”
It hadn't felt like cheating, it felt harmless, right even. Just two ol' friends strolling down Memory Lane.Hand-in-hand. Arm-in-arm. Cheek-to-cheek.
But it was cheating.
Make no mistake about that.
My angry husband told me what he could do to my ex, or what he could arrange to have done to him, how he could walk away from me, and never look back, about what happens when you break a mirror …
We fought and he yelled many things at me:
“It’s cheating! Messaging each other is fucking cheating!”
It hadn't felt like cheating, it felt harmless, right even. Just two ol' friends strolling down Memory Lane.
But it was cheating.
Make no mistake about that.
My angry husband told me what he could do to my ex, or what he could arrange to have done to him, how he could walk away from me, and never look back, about what happens when you break a mirror …
I begged him not to re-arrange my ex’s face, to give me another chance, assured him that all those messages between me and my ex was nothing… I tried my best to apologise.
He said, “This guy really wants you back.”
I denied it and reassured him that it all meant nothing. What else could I have said?
Luckily, in the end, after a lot of yelling and fighting, my husband finally said, “I want to fight for you.”
Those words made me exhale. They also brought on a tsunami of fresh tears.
My ex?
When I told him that my husband had discovered our convos and that he must never contact me again, he begged me not to cut off contact with him, reminding me of the history we shared and other stuff.
He was so persistent, I ended up blocking him. I felt bad doing that, but my husband’s feelings and my marriage came first.
Thankfully, over time, we put that indiscretion of mine behind us and there was a certain newness (is this a word) to our relationship, which was delightful.
Oh, make no mistake, our marriage wasn't perfect after that. It wasn't perfect before that and it certainly wasn't perfect after that, it just was.
But, I guess we loved each other to try to work it out. I was grateful for that.
The ring?
I threw it away.
Well, that's not altogether true. I threw it in my sister’s direction for safekeeping, because, well, do you really expect me to throw it away? C'mon! It would have broken my heart to do that.
When my husband passed a few years ago, my ex reached out to me again. Somehow he managed to make contact with me.
We messaged each other, and again, he wanted to talk to me and even see me again, but I had no intention of resuming things with him, mainly because by then, I realized that I did not want to hurt another woman, despite what she had done to me. To us. The man she was married to, the one who she stole from me, would always hanker after me. I took comfort in that.
I just wanted to be left alone with my ring and my memories of my first love.
I still think of him though (how can I not?), and it’s usually with a wistful smile and sometimes a chuckle when I do.
But, for now, it’s me and Patsy Cline …
I've got your class ring
That proved you cared
And it still looks the same
As when you gave it, dear
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got these little things
She's … got …. You ….
END
(This blog post is an update on a previous blog post)
………………………………
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EXCERPT
"So, what do you want from me? Money? How much?"
“I don’t want your money.”
"What?"
"Don't want your money."
“Then ... what do you want?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? Oh, I see – you want me because I belong to another man?”
“Um ... because you belong to him.”
"What? You can't be serious."
"Oh, I am serious!"
“That … that’s pretty fucked up, you do realize that, right?”
“Yeah, but as you've said before, I am fucked up. So, what’ll it be?”
“Well, I mean ... like, do I have a choice? You’re –”
“—blackmailing you? Yeah, yeah, yeah! We gotta deal or what?”
“You have some nerve. You're not even trying to deny --”
“We got a deal or what? Huh?”
"-your indecent -"
“Yeah, yeah, yeah - what's it gonna be? We gotta deal or what?”
“Fine! But let the record show that ... it’s against my -”
End of Excerpt
To read more about this complicated love triangle, click on this link:
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