I know… I know… I haven’t been updating the past two weeks as often as I should. It’s gotta be unnerving for all two or three of my readers, but I assure you, it’s been stressful little week, chucked full of lots of life-changing decisions, none of which am I actually able to blog about right now. However as soon as I’m able too, you, dear reader, will be among the first to know.
Before I get into writing about numer-o five-o, I figured I would take a moment to explain a bit of my thinking in writing about the five. I mean, wouldn’t it be easier just to choke all of those things down like I do all my other emotional baggage? Damn skippy it would. But, in the same line that one might think, “if I throw up I might feel better”, I figured writing about it might help get rid of some of the sickness these things can bring.
Additionally, I don’t think there was anyone that knew all the stories. My brother may have met a few of the loves, but he didn’t know the stories behind how the relationship rose and fell. J was there for the later ones, but guy’s night doesn’t usually entail conversations about how my first love made me wrestle with the very nature of forgiveness.
I do remember a conversation with J, where in reference to a girl I was dating he said, “She’s got to be the craziest bitch you’ve ever dated.” I simply smiled and said “bud, you have no idea…”
Hell, not counting Jenn’s family, I doubt there are a dozen people within 50 miles of Saint Lou that even knew I was married before. I just don’t talk about it.
So once I blatantly glommed off of the idea of the top 5, I had to set of some parameters for whom would make the cut. For example, I decided that for the sake of keeping things simple, the person had to actually love me back. But who can know someone else’s heart? So again, for the sake of simplicity, I kept it to those who had convinced me they loved me too.
Those who convinced me they loved me.
And that’s what I keep coming back too. When do you really know you are/were loved? To that end, when do you know that you no longer are? Or perhaps never were…
These are all very pertinent questions when discussing number five on my list. And I promise tales of sex, drugs, drama, and photography.
