Personal Ramblings is back. This is where I put my heart, soul and dignity (at points) out on display for those to ponder and wonder “Who the hell is this guy anyway?” Today, we begin an odd journey into my psyche and my odd misadventures. They will make you laugh, cry or maybe a bit of a lesson along the way.
The Awkward Break-Up Without Closure
It was the beginning of August.
Well, the second week anyway. My mind was in full focus on the bright new future ahead of me. I enrolled the community college Cerritos College in order to pursue an acting major. I had decieed this early on because I knew goi g to a legit university or college would be a practical pain in the ass for my family. We are middle-class and Hispanic. I could get into a lower tier college and they would have called me a success. I had recently spent my summer with after high school trying to make sure I got to be with my friend’s one last real time in countless adventures to the beaches of Redondo and Santa Monica, voyages to late night cinema fare at the Vineland Drive-In and soda-stained seats of the local cinema and the ocassional underage drinking activities in the cracked driveways of peers. My current girlfriend at the time, Maria, was also by my side, but I noticed her begin to fade into the background. It is as if her timeline got screwed over by some jerk in a time machine and she was slowly turning away from me.
I did not have a car at the time to go see her and she was personally busy focusing on her prospective career as a colorgaurd gal. She entered competitions, performed with the greatest of ease doing a wide areat of flashy moves Jennifer Beals would envy and looked darn cute doing it. She was a brunette in those day instead of her faux scarlet haired-self these days with braces covering up her Crest Whitestrip smile. She was small in stature, but big in personality. She was the woman version of Freddie Mercury, flamboyant, vibrant and filled with energy. It was August as she was ready to go to a camp of sort to further her studies in colorgaurd. She was a senior in high school now and I was now going to be a freshman in college. That is when I finally felt something and that something was not right.
The “something not right” came on a beautiful Tuesday summer afternoon on August 10, 2010. I was at home in my room upstair downloading Scott Pilgrim vs. The World: The Game I had just bought for my PlayStation 3 when a knock came at the door. I was aware Maria woukd be stopping by to pick up her copy of Breakfast at Tiffany’s she had lent me, resulting in what would be the last time I had ever had the urge or patience to watcn that movie again. I ran downstairs as if a suitor had arrived. Yes, I know that analogy is a bit strange, but it really felt like that. She came in with a gleaming smile and asked if we could go upstairs. I was estatic and ready to tell her all about what has been happening and everything. There was her in a white T-shirt and black shorts, her short length brunette hair and her gorgeous brown eyes staring at me. She asks for Breakfast at Tiffany’s, hugs me for a short while and holds me. She stared right into my soul with a grin on her face at that very moment. She was the “something not right.”
These two words made my heart collapse, my mind whirl and every pre-concieved concept of the future with her for the next year fall into sudden spiral. It was over and her she is, with Breakfast at Tiffany’s in her hand and a smile on her face it was done for. Me, in a sudden swirl of anger, sadness and even happiness, only asked the question I wanted to know.
“Why?,” I asked wondering if I was going to survive.
“It’s not you. It’s me. I am sorry. It’s just over. Goodbye,” she said, giving me the quickest and most non-answer answer in the book.
“Goodbye,” I said back slowly forming a whole variety of explanations in my mind.
So that was it. No awkwardness. Okay. I promised awkwardness. Bare witness to the awkward last words of former lovers ever.
“What do I do with the door?,” she asked.
“Just lock it and close it,” I replied back.
“Okay. Oh, there we go, I got it. Bye,” she said as her voice began to fade.
“Bye,” I said with a tear rolling down my face.
I saw my former beautiful Killer Queen run away from my house to her friend’s car smiling. I took this as the notion I should be happy. Instead, I went into full blown dumbass mode, played “Back in Black” by AC/DC louder than eleven, sang in a pitch equivalent to a cat getting strangled and drank a bit of Grey Goose stored away in the kitchen cabinets. Much to my disappointment, it had been replaced with water, but that is a story for a different day. My sister Jennifer came home to the aftermath of the idiot former boyfriend in tears and trying to cope with the sudden loss of romance. I was in need of a prescence of love and care as mine just left with Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard in romance by her side. I texted my ex-ex-girlfriend Gaby at the time.
Gaby was the first official girlfriend. She wasn’t considered the prettiest gal by most, but, for me, her personality is what drove me to her. She was smart, commanding and independant. She would not let anything get to her and she was a tough woman filled with pride. She looked similiar to Tina Bleecher, but without the confidence of a wet sock, yet had as much dry wit. We were on-and-off due to certain conflicts of if we were really good together or friends that should have never kissed or felt each other. She loved me though, even after we both agreed to end it.
She came over with her friend Joanna and they both got me the best comfort food in the form Funyuns and Mountain Dew to calm my nerves. Why Mountain Dew to calm me is beyond me, but it helped. We laid back, all three of us, and watched The Wedding Singer to help. It did not, but having to escape to a realm where Adam Sandler’s meek charms worked on Drew Barrymore was a nice piece of fiction that worked. Gaby then did something from our relationship to actually relax me. She stroked my hair and my ears to make sure I was okay. She held me soon after and I cried in her arms. In this small moment, I felt a sense of love again, but it was too soon to accept it in any way.
The next days were the worse of it.
I was on my way to vacation in Laughlin, Nevada before school started the next week. I was stuck in a hot car contemplating the relationship that had just died. I was seeing old senior couples holding hands at penny slots hoping for a big reward wondering if that would ever happen to me again. I was in a theater with my cousin Donovan and Jennifer watching Scott Pilgrim vs. the World wondering if I could have done more than what I had done to have kept her. I punched out a “STOP” sign by the Colorado River and broke it because I was so angry with the events of earlier that week. I looked into the Colorado River at night and saw the future’s reflection blurred and mangled in the water. I called Gaby twice just to tell her I was not well and my best friend Jerry as well to let him know that I was struggling.
After it ended, I went to my one and only class of the Fall 2010 semester called Acting for the Stage. Here, I toom my anger and frustation out on monologues of art apprasiers and serial killers, honing a craft I have now lost. I had an outlet to escape to. A classmate Melissa helped my improv come out and another classmate named Adam taught me to be the role, not just read the lines. In Acting for the Camera the next semster, I built friendships through my acting and realized I wanted to write. Writing and acting saved me, but one thing kept coming across my mind, I necer got closure. I knew I wanted it, but I was roped into trying to get a date with a classmate named Marcie with the help of fellow writer Lauren to comprehend even seeking an answer.
Yet, closure was the one thing I wanted and I sought to seek it. In early 2011, I had been convinced by an old friend named Britany to revisit the high school as a speaker. I went in and the first person I saw was Maria. She came up to me and hugged me as if we were cool again. She looked at me with the same eyes, the same smile she had when she left, her signature leather jacket, T-Shirt and jeans and this time nothing in her hand. My hand could have been back in hers, but it was not. I wanted to ask her, but my heart said “It will just kill you.”
Three years later…
Britany and I met up at a bus stop in Bell. I had finished attending a screening of Godzilla and was waiting. She saw me in her car and asked if I needed a lift. That lift turned into a trip to a bar in Downey. It was a dive bar similiar to what would be seen in an ABC soap opera. It was quaint with a smell of lung cancer and regrettable memories. It was here I got my closure.
“You know Maria?,” Britney said.
“Britney, you knew that. Why bring her up?,” I ask.
“You still wonder why she left, don’t you?,” she asked turning my question moot.
“Yes, only because I never got closure. She is happy with the guy she is with and I moved on, I replied knowing that Maria was far behind me already.
“She cheated on you with him. She only had you because you were a freshman. Once she saw you were leaving, she decided it was ti e for her to get her own,” she answered.
It was about her I replied with such rage and emotion. Such fury and passion.
“Well, I was not there for her enough and I don’t blame her,” I said. “It does hurt and it kills me and will continue to kill me. I am fine now. but after this beer and a long night of sleep, I am going to cry, contemplate life at this point and wonder if I am even a good boyfriend to the girlfriend I have now. I know I am, but now, I am fine. I have closure.”
Funny enough, Britney, Gaby and Joanna have all left my life, but Maria has always been in it, though in the background. She cheated and found someone better, but I cannot blame her. He loves her more than I ever could and she loves him more than she ever loved me. She has changed, but simply for the better. She is around to remind me that relationships end and new relationships form. She is around to show that life can go from normality to complete complexity in an instance. She is around to show negative actions can eventually work themselves out into a positive down the road. She’s a mystery to me.