Never to have loved at all: A what if story about regret

One-eye requested a story about my lost loves.   I’m super busy traveling up north this week for work, so I’m giving it to you a night early.    I don’t really have a “THE ONE that got away” story.   I have a still trying to figure out what the hell happened to me story, but you’re getting that in bits on Thursdays.  When I was younger if I felt at the time of impact that the particular ending of any boy and I made him THE ONE;  then  time has since delivered the sweet clarity that maturity and changed perspective bring.    I was a girl prone to often thinking the guys I thought I  loved were all going to be THE ONE.   I’ve become well practiced at loving and losing.  Landing and learning to get back out there, preferably with some further insight on what not to do next time.   I have mentioned before I have to learn lessons the hard way…right?

I may not have a THE ONE, but I do have one, and only one regret boy wise.  This boy was the lost opportunity to love, the never to have loved at all.   Sliding doors of the universe not aligning because of a bad choice I made.   I still remember the last moment I saw him, walking away from me crossing the street late one night in the bar district.   I was looking back over my right shoulder and he was wearing a dark colored shirt, he had dark  hair.  He had just looked at me shook his head a tiny bit and turned around to walk away.   I don’t even remember his name but I still remember our story…

I was out in the bar district at about the age of 23.  Let me think, this was after my first real heartbreak, it was the  spring after Texas went home but before I started dating Mick.   I had at least two of my Mu Rho Delta (Men R Dicks)  girls with me.   I had driven, and we had been on tour of the  bars and dancing. This is the same summer we are getting into bars for free and without waiting in line b/c I am fucking  I mean dating The Bouncer.   Walk right up to the front of your line with your girlfriends. Look him sweetly in the eyes and say “Hey”. He looks back says how many with you tonight and swoosh, everybody in.   That’s right, he remembers the hot tub.  The other girls in line do not like this, I’m long past caring.

I’m long past caring b/c this is the 2nd or 3rd club of the night. We always start out  at  Bar 1, because it’s $1 you call its until 10PM.   We always  stay till after 10PM. Then we move to BAR 2 to dance and drink more, usually a combo of shots with a drink. Purple Hooters and Jack and Diet Coke days  for Lola lovies.   The Bouncer worked at either Bar 2 or Bar 3. They were all owned then by the same guy and he rotated.   At  some point in time we end up back at Bar 1.   I don’t know if we had previously met the guys in the group my guy came from and had been hanging out with them or if they just walked by at the right moment.  All I know is I was outside sitting on the curb, probably in a skirt, and had my head between my legs because I DID NOT feel well.  You know how every group of friends has the Tucker Max one?  The one that just gets as drunk as she wants and does whatever she wants.  The ditch your friends for a dude girl?    That was often, but not always,  me.    I’m not proud of some of the choices I made in bars in that time  period, but they sure led to some adventures.    I haven’t had that many one night stands ( college doesn’t count right??)  and of the ones I’ve had I’ve never woken up anywhere strange or  not remembered where I was supposed to be or who I was supposed to be with.  I’m sitting on the curb trying not to puke, I didn’t puke often, and he comes up beside me.  As I remember he volunteered to drive me home in my car to my apartment. My friends  discuss this with him and agree I am going to be safe and away we go.

The ride home is uneventful and only about 15 minutes.  We arrive at my apartment.  Now here is a guy,  about 5’10” tops, dark haired, blue eyed and acting like a gentleman.  He did not even try anything when we get home.  I get him set up on the couch with a blanket and I proceed to strip down to my underwear and pass out in my bed.  I am not the least bit worried about him hurting me.

I wake up in the morning and start to turn over and I’m NOT ALONE in bed.  I jump and scream.  I’m looking at him holding the sheet up to me and my scream wakes him up.   I KNOW we didn’t have sex b/c I’m still wearing panties and I have no recollection of doing so.  He quickly explains that my kitten wouldn’t leave him  alone on the couch and out of desperation he climbed into bed  next to me.  He is still in his t-shirt and boxers so I calm down and lie down next to him so we are facing each other.  We talk for a little bit, make out some but nothing heavy and go back to sleep.  After we wake up we get dressed and I drive him back to his house in the bar district.   He doesn’t seem to be that into me in spite of the make-out session earlier. He hesitates before getting out of the car, but no one asks for anybody’s number.  Now for a guy to take me home, not try to fuck me, and then not ask for my number after making out. Just doesn’t happen.  He REALLY bailed me out of a situation that night.  He  rescued me from the side of that curb and got me home safely, then didn’t try to take advantage in return.

A few weeks or months later we are back at Bar 1 and he’s there. I walk right past him and do a double take.  I walk right up to him and say “You look just like the guy that rescued me a few weeks/months ago from that curb outside”   It’s him.  “You were so nice I tell him, you took me home and kept me safe and you didn’t even try anything.”  We start dancing and hanging out.  I’m super excited because he is even cuter than I remembered.  He’s not my favorite type, but I’m into him.  We hang out this way most of the night and he comes with me and my friends to other bars that night.  Then it gets to be close to going to get something to eat while drunk time and we spill out onto the street and head to the burrito place.

On the street, on the way we encounter an ex of mine.   Big Balls.  Big Balls and I had lots of sex for a while, then got too close and he got too scared and pulled away.   He will go on to later tell me I am his THE ONE, but by that time it will be too late and I will no longer have any trust in his ability to be emotionally available to me.    On this night though, I am mad at Big Balls.   I am walking up to him, I pull ahead actually when I see him, leaving the boy and the friends to catch up.  We begin to have words, in the middle of this stupid stupid fight I notice something.  The boy  has gotten a look of hurt and recognition on his face.  He knows this is an ex and he feels like I ditched him to talk to the ex, because I did.   He  looks at me, shakes his head and starts to walk away.  I’m torn but the damage is done and I am angry  at Big Balls still so I choose to finish our short talk on the street.   In the end they have both walked away and I go with my friends to get that burrito.

I regret that move.  I will always wonder a tiny bit what could of been with my guy and I.   The lost opportunity to love, to never know is somewhat sad when there is  perceived potential.    I know sometimes in a new relationship you have to play what if, either in your head or together, but even that can be a very dangerous game. You truly have no idea how you will handle any given situation until you get right there in it.  You cannot pre-plan and account for every hurt , every bad thing that might happen if you take the plunge.  You can only choose to love and accept it may come with loss, or choose to sit out and never know.  I’ll never know b/c I chose to play what if on the street with Big Balls that day.   The potential for me to gain return on my investment caused me to make a choice.  And now, I’ll never know what could of been…. Big Balls was more important to me that night than my guy, and I am where I am because of it.

I really do  believe that we are where we are in our lives for a reason.  Sure there are things we may harbor true remorse for choosing to do, but playing the what if I had done and I regret making this and such choice game are nothing more than an endless mind fuck you deliver to yourself.   You are where you are in THIS moment in time because of where you have been.   The grass is not greener on the other side, if it is it’s only going to be that way for a while, then it will just be the same grass you have now but with a new guy.  I know with our internet social age  we get thrust into the opportunity to play this game more and more often.   Mind fucking yourself is wasted time and energy.   If there is something you truly wish to change  or repair then put on your BGP and seek to repair or or change it, but please don’t play the what if game.   Instead play the do, live, let it be, breathe game.

One Comment on “Never to have loved at all: A what if story about regret”

  1. Awe Broadripple in the 90’s was the shit! Thanx 4 the share girl, LOVED it!!! Juv Yuo!

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