The next few…
…weeks Tim and I spent a lot of time together. He made me laugh and I liked that but as time went on, I grew increasingly confused. Yes, I was still nursing a broken heart to some degree. Yes, I was an incoming freshman and he was an outgoing senior. But it was more that. He was very sarcastic and I didn’t understand that at all; my family is not a sarcastic bunch. I thought he was mean. I finally broke it off and according to Tim, he was now the heartbroken one.
I went through the next four years of college enjoying the experience. I dated some very nice guys and after graduation I moved to another college town where I had gotten a teaching job. During that time an old, old roommate called to see how I was doing. She had heard that I had been sick the year before, had a lung removed and was just generally very sick for a while. I assured her all was well and then she said, “You may want to call Tim. He heard you were sick and he’s kind of freaking out.” Really?
I thought about it and decided to give him a call. For some reason (or maybe she gave it to me) I had his parents number in Southern California. I called. His mom must have thought I was a whack job because she wouldn’t give me his number. But within an hour he called me. He was working about 2 hours away and wanted to see me. I drove down to the restaurant he was managing and we ate lunch. It was good to see him but again, I wasn’t completely infatuated. I thought he was a good guy though. I realized at that point that he wasn’t mean….by then I learned that sarcasm wasn’t truth. Tim asked if I would accompany him to a wedding that weekend in San Luis Obispo. I had never been there, it sounded like fun and I remembered the people getting married so I figured why not.
That weekend we drove down to San Luis and attended the wedding. We had a lot of fun and ended up staying the night to hang out with his friends a little longer. “I’m glad you came with me this weekend,” he said right before giving me the second of our three first kisses.
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