There are dozens of stories I could share here about my life in college and me finding who I was, but the more I think about it, the more universal that experience is, it wasn’t just my journey. Most people go through it. So even though it was finding jobs and friends and MK and crazy trips and heartache and some insane drama I know not many people have experienced, that stuff can wait for another day. Remind me to tell you the one about the bi polar roommate…
To be really hard-hitting, I know where I want to start. Snippy brought it to my attention in the comments of that last post, calling it the day I became family to her – I can’t even address that whole comment other than to say it heped immensely with everything I’ve been trying to figure out (P.S. Really, you should be reading her blog too, in case you forgot that I reminded you to!)
Once upon a time in Austin, I went out with some really good friends of mine, and a group of their friends I’d never met. There were maybe ten of us. I met this one chick as she burned a hole with a lit cigarette right through the new shirt I’d gotten to go out (warning sign?). It is still one night of fun that stands out in my memory. We quickly bonded with this group of fun high-spirited people and spend a good summer in each other’s company. When the ring leader moved away, she and I remained in touch. She was in college, working, had beyond wealthy parents, and an appetite for working as hard as she played.
It was really my first real girl friend after my first(ASH) and best(SB) friend and roommate moved away, which had such a tough impact on me I thought I’d never survive. Since SB had pretty much been my everything up until then, I foolishly put my everything into DH (for the sake of me trying to be vague and getting annoyed let’s name her “DH”, like, dummyhead!). Everything was fine until she lost her job. Then dropped out of school. Since no one I’d known had ever done that, I had her back. I helped her. I set her up with friends. I almost alienated my dear BIL over her. Things spiraled out of control for her while things went better and better for me. I was graduating, meeting new people, getting promotion after promotion. Getting engaged! Getting a new job! Getting a promotion!
We fell in and out of touch after she moved back in with her parents. Her friends were my friends, always asking “What happened to DH?” Sometimes I knew, sometimes I didn’t. I didn’t see any pattern, just a troubled life. So when she came back into mine, with a job, a new start, I didn’t question it. I always try to build others up.
I invited her to go to the networking events I found and loved. When my job was beyond torture, I could get with people who reminded me why I loved it, why I was good at it, why I wanted to do the right thing. Unfortunately, I became associated with someone who drank, smoked, partied, and went home with others and was gossiped about. I used to feel like I could only blame myself, but the nights I stayed out past my bedtime, away from my fiance, and showed up to work so much worse for the wear, I now see as nights I let myself be persuaded. That is my fault, but DH shares more of the blame than I realized at the time. And I know now it was because she wanted to hurt me, to bring me down. She’d talk me against my friends, my fiance, being a good employee.
It was strange but fine when she announced that she “had to” be my maid of honor for my wedding. I was a sucky wedding planner, knew the trip would be expensive for SB (she had been carefully carving out her own amazing life) and to this day ASH – I really thought you had been in 87 weddings and would like a chance to just sit and enjoy one IN YOUR OWN CLOTHES :). So sure, whatever. I asked KD to be in my wedding party too, and was done. Well, I went to flower places BY MYSELF, arranged music BY MYSELF, and finally got the girls together to pick food, after I found a church and hotel BY MYSELF. There really aren’t that many fond memories of my wedding planning – it was me, on the computer on my lunch break at work, researching until I was so sick of it I just picked something.
Well, that was more backstory than I thought I’d need. To be continued…