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a good story, pt. 7

January 10, 2008

Trust. It’s something that I think anyone would feel is necessary for any good relationship, but it’s also something that can be ruined in an instant. And once it is, it’s very, very hard to get it back.

Guys, if you take away one thing from my musings on relationships, that one thing should be that girls might forgive, but we never forget. Gosh, the things we hold onto, for years and years… it’s crazy really. So when I found out one of the people I trusted most in this world had a little fling with another girl, not only was I devastated, but boy did I hold on to that. I think from that point on I put a wall up that would prevent me from getting that close again, so as to not get hurt.

What’s weird though, is at the time even though my heart was broken and my trust was extremely damaged, I didn’t even have the strength to just end the relationship. That’s another thing about girls. Often times it seems like if you do something horrible to us, that makes us doubt our own self-worth so much that we don’t have the guts to leave you. I tried, but between my feeling sorry for myself and even more so for him because of the loss he had experienced just a few months prior, I guess I just felt like we deserved each other or something.

So even though he had completely blindsided me with this, I choose to give him another chance. His own friends were even baffled by it, and continued to bad-mouth what he had done. It all came to a head one night at a local bar. It was a week or so later, and as far as I was concerned our relationship was on the mend. I was just happy to have him back home, as he had been in Germany for the previous couple of weeks. Remember my bandmate though? The one that I had instantly clicked with the first time we met? Well, by this point it seemed he thought of me much like a little sister, someone to protect. That’s what I tried to tell myself, anyway, when he tried to pick a fight with my boyfriend that night at the bar. Ultimately it was just a shouting match (thank God) but it ended up out in the middle of the street, which was humiliating enough. Remember I was the shy girl who hated attention (yet I had pink hair, go figure), so while to some it might boost their egos to have two guys fighting over them, it just made me want to run and hide. Finally they managed to put a muzzle on their testosterone, or drunkenness, or whatever, and the boyfriend and I went on home.

In a matter of days the two of them were back to normal, not only making jokes about it, but even writing songs about it. As for me, being a fan of a good story, I can’t help but look back on that night and think of it as the biggest foreshadowment (I think that’s a word, no?) of my life story so far.

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