Day 311 OMGYES

Between July 2006-Late April 2007, my life consisted of Johnny. No, really, my life literally consisted of just him: I spent nearly every day talking to him, being with him and spending every waking moment in his existence (which really, was just an extension of my own). We knew just about everything about each other, memorized our class schedules and phone numbers and favorite foods because I was "so in love" with him. Neil would actually spend our subsequent relationship pissy as fuck when it came to Johnny because it aggravated the living shit out of him that I "fell in love with him in such a short time while it took forever with us."


And it really was like that: Johnny was my first real, serious boyfriend and when I fell, I fell hard and I fell fast from the moment I swung a door into his face. Damen was a huge deal too, but that idiot couldn't decide if I was worth the trouble and ultimately is one of those phases I like to pretend never happened. Johnny and I would spend our entire freshman year of college together: we went home together, ate together, saw each other in between classes, and I even went to meet his family one weekend (his mother was a bitch, which should've been a HUGE "GET THE FUCK OUT WHILE YOU STILL CAN" sign that I should've heeded earlier than later). 

Pretty much, those months together were like the prologue to what I assumed was going to be the rest of our lives together. As far as I was concerned, I was going to graduate in four years, live together with him in sin in our college town while he got his pharmacology degree, and then we'd make the difficult decision of who's hometown we were going to move to once he got a job: his or mine, and we'd proceed to marry in his family's church and have our three children starting when I turned 27. 


...Yeah, I planned this shit out good.


...Until I hit that tiny snag circa late March, early April 2007 that I like to refer to as "me coming to my senses and realizing he's kind of an idiot." And... just like that, he faded. It was...unfathomable. Just... unbelievable that this person, this all-consuming entity that essentially defined my existence for what felt like forever (and really was just a little over a standard school year) just... didn't exist anymore. 


Well, metaphysically of course; he was very much alive and I'd actually continue to see him in the next three years (actually having one class with him that following fall). Over the next year, he'd pop up once in a while: in a conversation, on campus, through friends' photographs on facebook, he persisted like a myth (known of, but never truly realized). I'd find texts and messages and presents he'd given me and I'd find myself dialing his number instead of Neil's for a while because my brain thought "call boyfriend" but my fingers remembered a different set of numbers altogether...


...Fast-forward nearly half a decade later... I don't know how it even crossed my mind, but I found myself seeing his (somewhat common) first name somewhere. It doesn't happen often, but the name triggered the memory of the person... and I suddenly found myself wondering, "What was his last name again??"


...And after spending about a half-second on that thought, I realized, 


"OMG. I'VE FORGOTTEN HIS NAME...

HOLYFUCKYES!!"

I had, without trying one way or the other, forgotten a chapter- NAY -a whole fricking testament of my life: THAT'S LIKE SEEING LION KING 2 WITHOUT HAVING CRIED WHEN MUFASA DIED!!!

And while my breakup with Johnny was a lot less painful than having to watch a cub Simba torture himself for causing his father's death, this idea: this realization that Johnny's presence in my life (which was really just an extension of his life) had dissipated to the point where I can't even recall his friggin last name... 

I'm slowly, belatedly finding the good in good-bye. And... it's... liberating. And hilarious. And just... generally mother fucking awesome. 

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Thanks babe ;)