High school provided plenty of heartbreaks. I tried super hard to get the ever elusive “girlfriend”. I had many “girl friends” but no “girlfriend”. I wanted one. Oh how I really wanted one. I spent more time being depressed over the lack of a girlfriend than I care to remember. Loneliness was real. It was also a painful thing to deal with. There were a couple of one or two week girlfriend stints. Those little flurries were the result of trying to be in a position to say I was “going steady” with someone. Nevertheless I pressed on. I had a bunch of good friends and the ability to put on a good smile despite my loneliness.
It seemed my major role was to pick up the pieces of the other broken hearts. I was that good awesome “buddy” guy. Perhaps that girlfriend was there. Maybe I missed something at the time. Maybe I wasn’t looking in the right places. Maybe I was too afraid to push the issue or misread something and ruin a friendship. There was always that little voice that said, “Nope. No way. She really only sees you as a friend”. The first time I ignored that little voice it didn’t go well. I was rejected. I figured the best way to redirect my anger was to immediately start “going steady” with this girl’s sister. It was so stupid. Yet another of the many situations where I put so much youthful time and energy into a few weeks of high school life. It seemed like a never ending saga.
I really had a very painful “relationship” my senior year with one particular girl. I liked her quite a bit. We were supposed to “pretty much” be boyfriend and girlfriend but we couldn’t tell anybody. We had to keep it a secret from everyone. I was a long haired rock and roll guy. “Totally not her type.” That was actually a direct quote. Her mother also hated me, even though she had never met me. This was pretty funny to me, at the time, because moms usually loved me. This isn’t meant to sound braggadocios. Generally speaking, I have been able to get along quite well with moms. For whatever reason, it was super important that no one knew that we were , again “pretty much” boyfriend and girlfriend.
This girl had me so mentally wrecked that I asked her to go to some stupid dance. I hated dances. I hated school events. No one could possibly loathe a school event more than me. This, however, was more her world than mine so I asked her to go. I thought it was a good way to cross a bridge. I was more than willing to meet her mom as well. She decided to go with her cousin instead of me for some reason I can’t even remember. I’m sure the reality was actually the thought of what people might think if they saw her with this rock n roll guy that , again, “totally wasn’t her type.” They might even get a notion that we were “pretty much” more than boyfriend and girlfriend. Cue the music folks…dumb da dumb dumb !
My parents didn’t allow me to go to many high school events or gatherings. There were a couple of junior high school moments that gave them reason to be concerned. I didn’t push my parents too hard on the subject. It got heated a few times. I wasn’t exactly locked in a tower but sometimes it felt that way, especially to a lonely heart. I have no regrets about the things I didn’t get to do in high school. My parents did the right thing. When I think of all the stupid things I have done in my life, I realize how thankful I am for missing the opportunity to do even more stupid things when I was in high school. My true friends never gave me any crap about my fairly protected social life. Sure they wanted me hanging out with them outside of school more, but they knew the situation. Many of them actually liked my parents.
People often say they wish they could go back to high school. Everyone has a different experience. For my two cents, you can keep that whacked out bucket of mondo bizzarro. I do have some fantastic memories. There were also so many messed up feelings in my private moments. So much stress over things that are, in the grand scheme of things, only temporary situations with people that are temporarily in our lives. Youthful ignorance and impatience is blinding. Sometimes all I could feel was the hurt and loneliness. All everyone else knew was my smile and the friendship we had. I wasn’t one to put my problems out to people. I needed to keep it together on the outside so I could be there for other people.
College was a life buffet of reckless freedom . I slapped a saddle on the lightning bolt of life and took a wild ride into the misadventures of young adulthood. It was a 4 year haze of a 24 hour a day hammer down lifestyle of college, work, band, party. Then eventually the order of priority became band, work, party, college. Then by the end of it all it was party and fit everything else in. There was plenty of fun. There was an abundance of outrageous behavior. There was no shortage of girls. There was ample supply of girlfriend drama, life crisis and poor decisions. The heartbreaks were more devastating. These were life changing, emotionally scarring heartbreaks. Bitter inner loneliness at the height of my social insanity. I don’t know how fifty people can fit into a one bedroom apartment, but they did . The college/band years is a totally different chapter. It needs its own page (or fifty pages). Maybe it’s written on my Canadian Hunter Whisky drenched diplomas in invisible ink. It was full of great times, all time lows, great music and real adult dramas that put the high school years into perspective. High school was Romper Room. College was a three ring circus under a blazing big top.
I did, eventually, give up on love after a serious string of bad relationships that stretched out over my college and post college life. I won’t even touch on the details surrounding those failures. They are complex things that need a full memoir treatment that must be read some time after my death. I don’t know if I’m more concerned about how others would judge me or how I would judge myself. Those experiences set me on the path to Lonely Street. That was my road. I would be the lone wolf forever.
Oddly enough, the second, and last time ignored that little voice that said, “she’s just a friend” was many years ago. My life was turned upside down. I needed food, shelter and time to plot my next maneuver. I was on my second tour of duty living with my parents. I was about a year into a new job. A couple of co- workers started coming over to hang out and watch movies. One of the co-workers was a young lady . She was starting to take up more of my eye time at work. She was also taking up more of my mind time after work. I felt it best to keep my thoughts to myself . I didn’t want lose the hang out time. I also didn’t want to risk any work related issues that could cost me my job. One night my mom told me, “That girl likes you. ” I said, “Mom, she’s just a friend.” My mother replied, “Girls don’t go over to boy’s houses to watch movies and eat pizza if they aren’t interested.” I’m glad I listened to Mom’s advice. I risked my heart one last time. I said to myself. “No matter what happens, this is the last time I am ever doing this.” My wife and I are now approaching twenty years of marriage. We still like pizza and watching movies. Granted we don’t watch near as many Troma flicks these days, but we still find time for a movie. Moral of this chapter, listen to your momma folks. They usually get it right more times than they get it wrong.
Garth Brooks sang a song, “Unanswered Prayers”. (written by Alger/Bastion/Brooks). It poignantly tells the tale of how we can focus too hard on the little picture when the grand plan has yet to reveal itself. We waste a lot of precious time trying to rush things or force things to happen. Life is easier when you are looking back at it. Wisdom and experience does provide a better lens.
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