Tag Archives: heartbreak

The Fixer of Broken Boys Part 7: The Boy In Yellow

The boy in yellow…

The universe doesn’t always get is right when it picks your first love. And to be honest I’m not even sure if he was.

What I do know is after that party for weeks this extremely tall, blonde guy would stand by our table on the good hall and just look at me.

He would say nothing.

Just look.

I find out later he was pledging and he was not allowed to speak to girls.

I won’t give him a name.

I can’t.

Out of respect for what I’m about to share …

For him

For me

How do I even say all of this

How about the before?

The weeks before he was free to talk to me when I met not one but two men who  in rapid succession would introduce me to things I didn’t learn in high school and also in doing so break my heart.

They didn’t know.

I think there  is an assumption if you’re in college you come with experience.

Not all of us do.

So to my Kiefer Sutherland look alike. I had never spent a night at a hotel before. I had never really made out. You get the idea.

It was a night but you armed me with a little knowledge then disappeared.

Then there was my sweet brown eyed boy. You and I would break each other’s hearts on and off for four years. You never thought you were good enough for me. I never believed someone like you could want me. You tried so hard to impress my Dad and I will love you for always for that. You were a heartbreak but you don’t count because you were worth it.

I think I’m ready to introduce you to the boy in yellow….

~~~~Caprise
Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

The Fixer of Broken Boys Part 6: My First Party

Cherie squealed with excitement when we got back to our dorm. Not only were we going to a frat party, apparently my friend’s fraternity was pretty popular on campus.

Us going there gave Cherie a head start on her pledge journey.

I on the other hand was petrified.

I did not drink.

I did not date.

Oh and guess who had never been to a party? Maybe a little too much freedom at once. Cherie to her credit which is why she is still my friend saw my face.

“Oh Caprise…you’ve never been to a party before?”

“More than that…” I squeaked.

I rattled off all the reasons why I was afraid to go.

“Oh no, you’re going. But effective now- buddy system. No girl left behind.”

Scott encouraged me to invite a few ladies from my floor because of course he did. LOL.

From that night on we really did not leave anyone behind. It got wicked sometimes and ugly and feelings were hurt. But we stuck together. Except for one. And we will get there and it changed things.

Not a heartbreak but a disappointment that I have never let go because if it were me… well … will get there.

Sadly

My first college party was kinda of crazy. How could it not be? However, when your big brother – yup I became a little sister introduces you as knowing your Mom. My experiences were very tame.

As I’ve alluded to- the people who break your heart aren’t the ones you expect.

Poor Scott the one and only time he tried to kiss me- I got incredibly sick. God bless him he was one of the best nurses I ever had. Our paths cross once in awhile and everyone assumes we got together in college. We just chuckle as we both know he really was my big brother.

I know this was a bit light … but we are gearing up for my first big adult heartbreak. It’s tendrils still reach out to me years later so I’m trying to figure out how to write about heartbreak number five.

~~Caprise
Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

The Fixer of Broken Boys Part 3: The Early Years

The Early Years…

After Reed my heart hurt I lost my friend. My best friend. Lucky for me the neighborhood we lived in was full of working class families like my parents who had kids my age who aside from Thing One and Thing Two didn’t think me being small or having weird teeth was a problem. It might have helped most of those kids were boys. It also helped that my Dad was pretty cool as far as Dad’s go. He listened to his music loud, he was young. The boys in my neighborhood saw an adult who would talk to them. 

At one point in my life my Dad had me so convinced he was John Lennon I took the The Beatles Sargent Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club band album to school and told my classmates during show and tell my Dad was John Lennon. He did have long hair and glasses. Insert whatever emoji you feel this warrants here. I have a couple in mind. 

Having the cool young Dad was helpful. Having a stunningly beautiful Mom who baked better and more than most of the Mom’s in the neighborhood didn’t hurt either. 

Last but not least my godparents lived close by. Like down the street nearby. They were the first people I knew who had a microwave and I thought I was the shit because they let me cook hot dogs in it. I was a regular Julia Child. They also let me walk their two dogs. Which again caused me to think I was the shit because I was allowed to walk TWO dogs unsupervised. They were weiner dogs. Of course I was. I weighed more than them combined. Keith always called me princess and reminded me daily I was going to be beautiful and amazing. Rene had the sweetest quietest voice. She had this grace I can’t explain but I always knew I was loved when I was with her. I never, ever doubted it.

She died a few years later from cancer. 

Heartbreak number two…

 Sorry we went there. It’s going to happen ok? It will happen again and it will probably be a lot harder than that. I am sorry not sorry but this is my deal and my story and I can sugar coat it and wrap it up for you. Or I could be honest. I could wear it all out there. Some of it I will. Some of it I won’t. I can’t and that is not to protect you my friends. It’s to protect me.

So where were we?

Oh yup what I like to call my early years.

Aside from Reed and music class boys there were a handful of boys who caught my eye. But it was never reciprocated until it was.

He was a year older than me and it was the summer before Junior High. Some of you young whippersnappers call it Middle School now. 

So where were we?

Oh yup what I like to call my early years.

The neighborhood I grew up was working middle class families like my parents, military families and welfare families. It was full of duplexes with carports and garages, full grown trees and a park on every street. But the jewel was our rec center which had a baby and two big pools. Swim lessons were free and the minute the pool opened for the summer we all lived there. It was probably the only time in my life I was tan. I would like to say to you in Middle School I glowed up as the kids say. 

That would be untrue. I like most of the girls in the mid 80’s had an unfortunate mullet bob thing going on accented by way too much Sun In. However what I did have was contacts. Life altering contacts. And dentures. My whole life I have always received the same compliment. You have amazing eyes. I do. They are big and a crazy deep blue. Almost all the women and some of the men on my Dad’s side of the family have these crazy doe eyed blue eyes. Gets everyone every time. When I ditched my glasses the family eyes reeled in some attention.

I was uncomfortably ok with it. No one was a creeper. At least not yet. That will come later. Doesn’t it always thought? Doesn’t someone always have to wreck it.

He did not wreck it. In fact he taught me how to take a compliment. To protect us all we will call him Jack. He was about to start high school, was not much taller than me but so many muscles. Which I noticed because I am not a 100% he owned a shirt. If he did he didn’t wear it around me. It all started innocently enough.  He and his friends were playing football near the pool. He noticed me and said hi. He introduced himself. Which to this day is ironic because he knew me. His Mom and my Mom worked together. I had even been to his house. However that was before my mini transformation. Apparently now with the contacts I could be acknowledged. 

He also invited me to watch them play football. From that moment on I was marked as his. Except what we both didn’t know he had been marked by someone else. Dating is hard. Insert emoji here. Preferably the most sarcastic one you can find.

The rest of the summer he would watch me during my swim lessons. I really wanted to be a lifeguard. I would watch him play various sports. He would always walk me home.

It was really pretty innocent. Until it wasn’t. Which was not his fault. It just wasn’t. But there is always that one guy who gives someone shit because honestly they are broken. So they want everyone else to know what it feels like to be broken so they break things. 

Like my heart.

Jack’s buddy also lived in our neighborhood. He had an older brother who was extremely handsome and kind. Everything he was not and made sure to try and make everyone around him feel how miserable he was being his brother.  He also was short but he did not have shy brown eyes Jack had or the quite voice. He didn’t look down when he talked to me. His long eyelashes almost touching his freckles. Instead he walked me home with Jack questioning why we hadn’t kissed yet. He encouraged Jack to chew tobacco and commented on the size of other girls breasts in relation to mine. He tried to grab me and once succeeded in grabbing me between the legs one afternoon while we were all swimming in the pool. I never said anything to Jack. I just ran out of the pool mumbling I didn’t feel good. The toad telling Jack I must be on the rag. When we were alone Jack always apologized for the toad, but it always felt too late.

One walk home the toad dared Jack to kiss me. I asked him not to. I mumbled you have been chewing tobacco. Really I didn’t want my first kiss with Jack to be in front of the toad. Yet here we were. I heard Jack stop and spit something out. Then he was standing in front of me. The toad next to him. He kissed me. It should have been great. Instead it was horrible. Not because of anything other than the toad ogling us. Truly. Me being me I yelled out “Jack!” “Gross!” 

The toad started laughing hysterically. I ran home. Jack just stood looking at me.

He ignored me for a long time. When I saw him a few weeks later he was with a girl who lived down the street. I was not allowed to talk to her. My Mom would never say why. I’m going to guess it was because her house was a rotating door of men and parties. Her Mom wore way too much of everything. She was actually a year younger than me but was much older than me in regards to everything else. Which even now makes me sad as I type this.

She promised the toad if he set her up with Jack she would set the toad up with her friend. The toad goading us while we kissed hurt Jack. Also, when I wasn’t around he would tell Jack girls like me think they are too good for guys like them. They just end up in the nunnery. Here is the thing I was too good for the toad. Jack was a different story.

Jack started talking to me again. When the girl would show up he would clam up. But when she wasn’t around it was us again. He told me he didn’t really like her but the toad made him feel bad and let’s be honest I was too sweet and too kind for him.

The girl found out and waited for me after swim lessons one afternoon. She and her girl version of the toad started yelling at me. I was stealing her boyfriend. They called me words I honestly had never heard before. Words which I couldn’t be since Jack was only the second boy I had ever kissed. 

For once I ran. That didn’t stop it. I got home as my Mom was leaving for work. Which meant I was to stay in the house and watch my brother. 

I was distraught and let him play outside as long as he promised to go get my best friend so I could sort this out. 

In the meantime the phone rang. In the old days phones hung on the wall. Weird I know.

It was her – the toad had given her my number. She continued her screeching. I couldn’t speak and for some reason did not hang up. I just listened and cried.

This is what Jack wanted?

Hearbreak number three…

I finally hung up shook out of my daze by a knock at the door.

“Sean so help me…” I muttered as I went to the door. I opened it and it there was my brother. Standing behind him was a Corey Haim look alike. Friends that is a good thing in my time.

“Hi my name is Jason. We just moved here. Your brother thought I should meet you.”

With a six year age difference it was rare I tolerated my little brother but at that moment I loved him.

 

~Caprise
Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

The Fixer of Broken Boys Part 2: My First Crush

I was five years old when I realized I liked boys. It happened super fast and even now at almost 46 I remember it. 1st grade music class sitting next to my best friend in the whole world. A boy sitting next to us pulls her leg so she will sit closer to him. She pulls my leg and we are both sitting next to said boy. Did I mention this also cemented my like for the blonde, tall, blue eyed nordic type? Oh it most definitely did. Eric from HBO’s True Blood -how you doing? The rest of the school year we were his girlfriends. It is also the closest I ever came to a threesome. So now you know that – insert blushing emoji here.

It would be easy to end this chapter here and say that was my first crush. While music crush boy was. He wasn’t it. He was just the start. Of many awkward exchanges. Many do you like me yes or no notes passed in class. Here’s the deal – when you are the smallest, have glasses and dentures. Yes you read that right. The odds are instantly stacked against you. It just is how it is. However being nice and smart while it didn’t always get you the guy, it got you some incredible friends and said guys may remember you later in life and the odds may then be in your favor.

We’ll get there…

My actual first crush was named Reed. I loved him so much. He had a bit of lisp and the biggest blue eyes. He was not a blonde but he was close enough.  He literally lived across the baseball field from me.

The day I fell in love with Reed was the year my Mom had me walk home alone. I am not a 100% on how old I was older than 1st grade younger than 4th grade. Two older girls that lived on my street would walk behind me everyday and call me names from the school to my door step. Jaws teeth, witch face, four eyes, midget, freak…

I usually held it together. Who I am f#@&ing kidding? I cried the whole walk home. For some stupid reason I didn’t think to run away or wait til they weren’t near me. Instead every day my walk home was accompanied by those two ladies and their very limited vocabulary. One day my Mom had dressed me up in this beautiful white daisy concoction and had actually woven ribbons in the braids in my hair. I know!  Well the braids didn’t survive as as soon as I got to school – out. The white tights nope = monkey bars and dirt underneath – well you can imagine.  However I still thought I looked pretty spectacular.

My two favorite future trailer park ladies strongly disagreed. We were maybe six feet from school and it started. “I don’t know why your Mom bothers freak.” “It’s not like you are a girl.” “I am not even sure if you are human, you little freak.” “No one has teeth like that, are you a vampire?” I bet you are”. Sidebar there was a time in my life I was convinced I was part vampire or at the very least a magical little witch who had been adopted by my parents so I could have a normal childhood. Did I mention I read a lot early on? Very vivid imagination. VERY. Now would a 17 and 18 year old freshly graduated high school senior adopt a premature baby with a heart condition so it would not know it was really part vampire or witch? I am gonna vote no, but that should tell you how much I loved my parents. I believed they would. To grade school me they were that magical.

Anyway…

My least favorite soundtrack continued. Next thing I know thing one is standing in front of me and thing two has grabbed my arms. “I think we need to see those shark teeth up close” ” Do you like blood?” 

Before thing two could ask another question my savior had beamed thing one in the back of the head with a rock. A lisp(y) voice yelled out “Run!” My hand was grabbed and I was running. We ran all the way to his house. We stopped at his front door and he my knight in a garanimal shirt said “I’m Reed. This is my house. You are Caprise. Can you hang come play?”

“I have to ask my Mom.” “My Mom will do it.” “Mom this is my friend Caprise I want to play with her, can you go ask her Mom with us?”

She did and for the rest of the school year Reed walked me home everyday. And everyday after school I went to his house and played video games or tried to play baseball or catch a football with the love my life. Until his Dad would come home and then his Mom would sadly look at me and tell me it was time to go.

It was one of the best years of my life. No one picked on me and my friend literally lived 2 minutes from me. He never teased me or called me names. As you do when you are little you think this will never change.

Until it did. Mom’s don’t look sad just because. Sometimes Moms are sad because they know they can’t protect you from big changes. Like a divorce. Reed was the first kid I ever knew whose parents were divorced. He most definitely would not be the last but aside from my own divorce it hit me the hardest. Who was going to share their candy stash with me? Who was going to try to teach me sports?

The day Reed and his Mom moved he came to my house with a fistful of dandelions and a sandwich bag full of candy. He stood in front of me and said my “Parents are getting divorced. My Mom and I are moving to California. I love you Caprise.” He kissed me and ran across our field.

I am smiling as I type this. All girls should have a Reed in their life. I am so lucky I did.

Heartbreak number one…

 

Caprise
Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

The Fixer of Broken Boys Part 1: How Did I Get Here

How did I get here?….

Ugh why is he taking so long.

I stared at the cement blocks that made up his wall. The bottom of his loft. The posters on his dorm room wall. 

Wishing he had put me in charge of the music. At 20 I felt his obsession with Frank Sinatra aged him more. He already looked like he would into middle age. Thin, straight combover hair. Oversized square wire rimmed glasses. His standard attire was a polo, khaki shorts and a boring shoe. To really mix it up he wore a baseball hat. And aftershave. Too much aftershave. 

Bored, bored, bored. 

I just wanted to go home and shower. Who taught him to kiss? So sloppy. For such a neat freak he was an incredibly sloppy kisser. My first boyfriend really?! 

His door opened. “Sorry rounds took a bit. Tina invited me to a party next weekend”
“That’s my birthday”
“You’re going home- we’ll celebrate when you get home”

We never celebrated. He had sex with Tina and dumped me via birthday card. I was too shy. I was too much of a free spirit. Tina he’d known since high school.
Tina didn’t make him work for it.
I didn’t cry until later. Surrounded by the girls on my floor. “She is definitely not nearly as pretty as you. It won’t last”.

They got married after college. He is a lawyer, she stays home and is raising their two daughters who they adopted from China.

Social Media – ugh.

I have always been a late bloomer. I didn’t kiss a boy until I was 14. First date 16. Did I mention my Mom hooked that up?  Yes, yes she did.  Because I wasn’t awkward enough. My Mom managed a restaurant when I got my acceptance letter to college and it looked like I wasn’t going to land a date on my own – she asked one of her many college aged hosts if they would take me out on a date.

I really do not want to know if she paid them. But one kind soul agreed and we went to the zoo. That will come later, I promise but it did not really equip me with the tools to deal with college boys. Seriously. I don’t mean that to be cryptic – it’s really not but when you have never dated, never drank, and go away to college without a car. Mistakes or not mistakes will be made.

We will get to that too.

Let’s get back to the scene of my first heartbreak. Did I mention at 20 this guy already looked like a middle aged dude. He did and on my gosh SO MUCH cologne.  JESUS GOD. My face was also ravaged after a make out session.  As an excezema sufferer his not shaved oily mug did some serious damage to my cheeks. Thank goodness we normally didn’t meet up until the weekends – gave my face a day to recover.

Ladies as a note when you make out with a man he should not kiss so wetly your lips are chapped.  This is not how this works. Unless you are into that in which case – you do you.

As you already know we didn’t make it.

Let it begin…

 

~Caprise