So I'm going to tell a different story. And it's a long one. So be forewarned. When Geoff and I split up, I had to do some thing different. And for about a year and a half, I went a little wild. Ok, a lot wild. I had always, always been a good girl. I went out with my best friend, spent lots of time at a cigar pub called Grumpy's, met new people, dated (or didn't) other guys and had major amounts of fun. I swore I wouldn't fall in love with anyone ever again. Not worth the risk.
And then I met Jeff. I know, I know - same name, but at least spelled differently. But that wasn't the only coincidence. They also had a birthday one day apart. And that was where the similarities ended. I met Jeff at a bar. My best friend and I were out at a place that was becoming a new favorite, and I was totally checking out Jeff's friend. Then a fly flew up into his beer and he very nonchalantly drank the beer real man style without blinking. I looked at him like he was insane and he just grinned at me and made some corny joke. I don't know why, but it made me laugh. We found out that it was the bartender's birthday so I asked him if he wanted to join us in singing "Happy Birthday" to the barkeep. And so began the misadventures of Jeff and Krista.
I was his first real relationship. He had dated of course, but never been in love. It was endearing, watching him stumble over the words the first time he said them to me, like he wasn't sure if he knew them. Jeff was a charmer. He could make anyone feel like they'd been friends for years, and part of how he prepped for this role was by drinking. And drinking lots. But I was 21-22 years old. I didn't understand the grip alcohol already had on him. His nickname at all of the bars was Norm. At first he would wait until noon to have a drink. Then, there would be a "special occasion" which would require him to drink earlier. And since for the first 6 months of our relationship, he did not have a driver's license thanks to a DUI I took on the responsibility of driving us everywhere. We went on a cruise together with a group of friends, and since he worked for the cruise line, he got a major discount on drinks. He spent $350 on drinks on that cruise - with his 50% discount. On a weekend cruise, he drank almost $700 worth of alcohol. And yes, I helped some but I was not a big drinker so my portion of that was minimal.
His father passed away in June of that year. Geoff lived with his dad and it was a bad time. But I was there by his side, helping him keep it together as much as possible. July 4th of that same year, he asked me to marry him. And of course I said yes. We were foolish enough to think that spending the rest of our lives together was a good idea. And we started that plan off by deciding to get married in Vegas by an Elvis impersonator while wearing jeans, white tank tops and birkenstocks. On a Friday the 13th. We were all about the party and the fun. Never taking life too seriously.
Something changed though. I became increasingly aware that getting married meant growing up. Which meant that our lifestyle might have to change. I was in school, trying to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of my life and there he was still drinking like we were at a party every night. So I would get angry, but being 22 years old meant I didn't know the right way to talk things out. I was not blameless. I wasn't pleasant. I was petty, and hot headed, and stubborn, and pushed the buttons, and eventually I pushed the wrong one. We broke up.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I barely went to classes. And when I did, I would invariably leave early. I'd thought that he and I would spend our lives together. He wanted to remain friends, but I couldn't do it. We tried to get together and hang out a few times but I needed the clean break. I ran into his best friend about 6 months after we broke up and he told me that Jeff was drinking more than ever and was in bad shape. My heart hurt for him but I knew there was nothing more I could do.
Several years later my best friend and I went to the bar where he and I met on a whim. We were playing a round of pool with another friend, when I felt a tap on my shoulder and there he was. We talked for a few minutes. I showed him a picture of my son and we agreed it was nice catching up. No more resentment or hard feelings. He was a stranger to me. Just a boy I used to love.
In September, 2009, I went on a cruise with my sister. It wasn't the first time I had been back on a cruise since going with him, but for some reason I could not stop thinking about him. Everywhere I went reminded me of our trip. So after I got home I decided to look him up on Facebook. Jeff had passed away the day before I looked him up at the age of 36. Even though it had been almost 10 years since we'd met an loved each other, I was devastated. I cried for the life we didn't have. I cried for the man I fell for, and I cried for the man he eventually became. Our relationship taught me so many things. And I'll always be grateful to him for those lessons. And I think he was also probably grateful for the lessons I taught him.
When I love, I love fully. And losing him at 22 was devastating. And even though he was no longer mine, losing out the opportunity to have one more beer for old times hurt just as much. Maybe in another life we can.
And that's the very long story of the man who broke my heart after Geoff.
I don't have many old pictures anymore, but I've always loved this one of us...and I take full blame for his bleached blond hair - but in all fairness, he asked for it!
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