When I was 19, I dumped my boyfriend.
I broke up with him over the phone, which was not my plan. My brother and I were home for a week break in February while the Olympics were taking place in Salt Lake City. I was going to see my boyfriend the next day. But I felt so strongly about it that I couldn't wait. I told him that I thought we should start seeing other people. His response told me he was confused. I told him I didn't think we should date anymore.
He had been it for me since I was 16. My first date, first hand holding, and first kiss. I had never been on a date with any other boy. I had been to countless soccer games to watch him play. We went to almost every dance together. We talked about everything. I felt like we understood each other and we were there for each other. He made me feel adored. He bought me yellow roses and even gave me his mother's heirloom necklace.
But there were more problems than positives. So much teenage drama was flung back and forth between us. I shouldn't have caught so much of it and let it sit in my hands for so long. I had swung to the other extreme of my earlier self. I was so permissive of actions and words that I knew I should have been taking a stand on. My heart was in that relationship so deeply that it ended up buried and bruised and frankly, very lost.
When I left for my freshman year of college, he and I were still together. After six months there, I attended the baptism of a friend. During the service, I received a very strong impression. "Your boyfriend is not the one for you. Marriage to him is not part of the plan for your life."
So I broke up with him over the phone.
I don't think he had been the favorite of anyone in my family, my mother especially. But she was so kind and sympathetic when I told her I had dumped him. She praised me for my ability to be so loyal to another person for so long and told me that would make me a great wife.
I try not to regret the time I spent with him. I find it so hard not to wish I had broken up with him sooner. Maybe someday I'll forgive myself.
3 comments:
I never had a boyfriend until Karl (I know--nearly impossible to believe, right?), but I've had moments like this in life. (Hours and hours of wasted anguish over guys, for instance! Includingions horrible semester where my sister and I shared a dorm room--and a smoldering crush on the same guy...it our finest hour, to be sure.) I always think of how the Lord uses the metaphor of pruning to describe personal growth, because sometimes it's downright PAINFUL. And I've lived with many, many regrets, or at last lingering questions over what might have been. And I've come to the conclusion (you know, because I'm ever so wise at 30) that the Lord uses every trial and mistake as a point of learning. You may look back one day and be profoundly grateful for the very, very hard lessons you learned--perhaps because your son (or daughter, maybe?) will be in a similar situation and need your insight. The kind you could only give after living through regrets. And again, your mom is a sweet lady for saying what she did--my mother might have done the same, but she also might have thrown her arms in the air and shouted, "Hallelujah! Sweet mercy--we're finally rid of that deadbeat!!!" Tact has never been a strong point in my family. I'd list the nicknames they used for my sister's dorky boyfriends (of which there were very, very many) but it wouldn't reflect well on my loved ones. ;)
That made-up word right in the middle should read "including one." In fact, I can see about twenty words that should be rewritten. Can you guess what I'm typing on?
A lot of us have a relationship like that. I know that I do. Hindsight is always 20/20. However, the only important thing is that, in the end, you did the best thing for you. And obviously, by your amazing marriage, you made the right choice, and learned from your mistakes. Don't sweat it. At least that is what I try to do about mine.
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