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Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, I just love the show!
So it is at eight minutes past two on a cold and dismal Sunday morning that my epiphany was realised. I have come to realise that, while I love the show and am currently watching each and every episode from the beginning, Gilmore Girls is depressing. Do you want to know why? Because of Dean and Rory. They are so young yet so in love, it just depresses me. Why can’t I have that? Hell, I’d even settle for that whole Luke-Lorelai “I-love-you-but-I-can’t-tell-you-so-let’s-just-remain-friends” thing that they have going on.
I’m 18 and yet I have only ever had two boyfriends in my life. And yes, I realise that having two boyfriends before you’re 18, is a lot more than some people have ever had before or may ever will have, it’s just depressing. So let’s take a look back at my ever so depressing love life.
First there was Paul. I was 15 when Paul asked me out. And he asked me out in the most romantic way…over MSN on a Friday night. He was that tall, skinny geeky kid, who answered all the questions that the teacher asked, always had an opinion, was always right and sat at the front of the room. I was the person who sat in the middle of the room and to the side because of course I wasn’t smart enough to sit at the front of the room, yet not cool enough to sit at the back. We had nothing in common and yet, the night before he was talking on MSN to me and he said that he liked this girl but he doesn’t know if she likes him back and should he ask the girl out and me, the friendly person that I am said, ask her out, what have you got to lose? Oh boy, was I wrong about that one. Turns out I was the girl.
The minute when he first asked him out, I just continued to stare at the screen for a full minute, making sure that I had read him right. I couldn’t believe that he had just asked me out, I mean him asking me out! So I did what any girl in my situation would do and told him, can I think about it before changing my status to busy and text messaging my friend to get on MSN because I had an emergency.
And so, after an hour and a half of constant talking between my friend and I, I told him that yes I would go out with him and see how it goes, rewording carefully what Debbie had said, which to paraphrase was, say yes and go out with him and if you don’t like it or him, just break up with him. And so, because of that, unsure of my own feelings but sure of her words, I said yes.
I can’t exactly say how long it was that we went out for. I’m almost certain that it was longer than a month but shorter than two months. The reason being that I can’t remember being told by him that we should break up. I can’t quite pinpoint what it was that drove the fact that we broke up, maybe the fact that we didn’t talk to each other out of school (or in school for that matter), or maybe it was the fact that the one class that I shared with him each day we barely said more than five words to each other. In other words, it was awkward and uncomfortable. I came to regret the fact that I said yes. Of course, me being the person that I am and hating confrontation couldn’t bring myself to actually break up with him.
It wasn’t until a Tuesday afternoon that I realised something was definitely up. One of my good friends, Cathy, asked me if I was still going out with Paul and I replied with a yes. She told me that I should talk to Paul and soon. The next day at recess, another friend, Tess, was the bearer of bad (or not so bad news). She told me that in fact, Paul and I were broken up and apparently broken up for about two weeks now. Apparently he asked me while over MSN if we should break up and I said yes. Now, I think I would remember saying something like that, especially since I hadn’t been much on MSN for those last couple of weeks. You would also think that you wouldn’t break up with someone over MSN. That’s right up there with breaking up with someone in a text message or leaving a message on an answering machine.
Needless to say, I couldn’t care less about the fact that we had broken up, actually I was quite relieved, I was just angry and a little depressed about the fact that not only did I have to find out that we had broken up from a friend but apparently the fact had been known to everyone but me for two weeks now. I refused to speak to him about it or about anything else after that. Of course, it wasn’t like that was anything new in our whole façade of a relationship.
Next came Jason, the love of my life. Or should I say, the ex-love of my life. I genuinely liked the guy. I really did and he genuinely liked me too. It was a gradual like for me, one that was hidden as another friend (well, more of an acquaintance) openly liked the guy too. It started soon after I found out I’d been dumped by Paul. I guess you could say we had chemistry in chemistry class. I truly felt comfortable around him and I suppose other people knew about it too. A teacher even noted it. My RE teacher and his guidance counsellor. While in RE, he gave us the period to do what we wanted so we all went outside and while talking with some friends he came over and asked if there was anything going on between Jason and myself and of course at that point I’d only really started talking with him for about a month, maybe more and I said no. Later that day I found out from Jason that Mr H, had the same talk with him. Talk about embarrassing.
We spent 6 months being friends, chatting in class and getting to know one another. It wasn’t until the Year 11 Ski Trip that anything really happened between us. We spent 5 hours on a bus from the airport to the hotel on the snow fields, talking and having a good time. We also spent time throughout the trip together, including on the first day of skiing when my friends ditched me on the hill and I was stuck with him and a bunch of other snow boarders, me the only one on skies and my first day on the snow as well.
It wasn’t until the last night when I realised that yes, he must like me as much as I like him. We were playing foosball with another couple until we got bored. They sat on one couch, acting all lovey-dovey and we sat on the other, at opposite ends, until Courtney said, go on and put your arm around her Jason. I had told her the day before while we were going back up the mountain after a run that I liked him, really liked him but was at the point where I couldn’t really do anything about it.
To my surprise he did what she asked him to do. He put his arm around me and not only that, started stroking my arm with one hand and my leg with the other. Of course there had been other signs in the other 4 days that we’d been on the trip. For example, on the bus trip to the hotel when after pulling over for a bus change and toilet stop, him warming my hands because the water in the bathroom was the icy cold water that leaves your hands numb or after a painful day of skiing, him walking to my room after dinner and before going in, my leaning against the door in pain and then all of a sudden feeling his hands on my neck and shoulders massaging me while I just leant against the door, thinking, my god this feels good.
A week later after we got back to school he asked me out. Later in our relationship he told me that he was trying to be cool about the whole thing. He walked me back to my locker after our chemistry class and as we were walking to where I usually sit with my friends to eat at recess and lunch we asked me, “So, do you want to make it official and go out?” and I replied back in much the same manner, “Sure, why not”, while inside I’m just bursting with joy and just want to stop and do a happy dance in front of everyone.
He was so incredibly sweet to me the whole time that we were going out. He was attentive and kind. He made fun of me, but not in that mean way, the “hey-I’m-just-making-a-joke-about-you-but-I-still-love-you” sort of way. He cared for me like nobody had ever cared about me before. He was even the first person to say “I love you” and yes, ok I admit it, I was scared the first time he said it and didn’t reply back, instead changed the subject and ok, he said it only a few weeks into our relationship but the fact that he said it first meant a lot to me. I eventually grew comfortable with saying that I loved him and calling him my boyfriend. I really did believe that I loved him.
The happiness lasted all of five months. The summer had ended and school was back, this time a new year and it was our final one. Year 12, the big one. Over the summer I had been thinking a lot about our relationship and I grew scared. I suppose it didn’t help that once we got back to school a so-called friend of mine (whom already had a boyfriend I might add and verbally admitted on many occasions that she hated Jason and asked what in the hell I was thinking in going out with him) started weaselling in on my territory. She started bringing him up in conversations, asked where he was, started talking to him when I wasn’t around, telling me that I shouldn’t break up with him because then they wouldn’t be friends anymore and the last straw, planning with him to go to the formal at the end of the year together if we ever did break up. Our friendship went downhill from there and I just plain refused to talk to her.
A couple of weeks later and after painful thinking and endless nights of receiving no sleep, I told him that I think we should break up. I was cruel and I was heartless, I broke up with him three days before Valentine’s Day. I still can remember his response when I told him that I thought that he and I should take a break. He told me that it was alright and that he’d see me around.
A week later it would’ve been our six month anniversary. I had forgotten all about it, but apparently he hadn’t. Three weeks later and after countless hours and days thinking and feeling depressed I openly admitted that I had made a mistake to my friend Faith. But by then it was too late, he had moved onto his rebound girlfriend, a fact that he openly admitted a couple of months later to me. And so I spent the next few months talking occasionally to him, missing him and just thinking what a fool that I was to break up with this great guy who really loved me.
And so, it is at 18 after being heartbroken that I had my epiphany. What Rory and Dean have is what Jason and I had and I missed it. I don’t speak to him anymore or see him now that we’ve both finished school and I miss that fact. At least at school if we weren’t talking I could still see him. And now, I’m sure he’s moved on with his life and I should move on with mine but I’m worried that, I’m comparing every guy I meet to him and the guys that I have yet to meet won’t match him. I’m scared of that fact. The fact that I’ve yet to get over my first (and yes, I don’t consider Paul my first) serious boyfriend.
That fact scares me a lot.