At my high school, the marching band had two weeks of intensive practice right before school started, where the group met for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. This was our “band camp.” The camp before my senior year, a new drill instructor came to work with the group, we’ll call him B. He was just out of college, incredibly musically talented, and a little more than seven years older than I was (don’t judge, please, ladies!). Within a month of meeting, we were dating exclusively. He seemed wonderful – bought me presents, took me placed. We dated happily for about eight months. And then his mom, who had been battling cancer, died, and I went away to college. Our relationship was more than strained. In his mind, the best way to save things was to get engaged, not too uncommon for girls my age in our part of the world, but a bad idea for a troubled relationship. We took a few breaks, a met a few other boys, and we drifted apart. A break-up seemed inevitable, and I could basically tell that he was cheating on me
However, I think the exact relationship ending conversation could win an award. Ladies, if you beat this one, you have my upmost condolences.
B: I think we should take an extending break. I don’t want to cheat on you, but I have feelings for someone else.
Me: I figured. Can I ask who?
B: His name is Josh.
Yup. His name. To say it was a shock is an understatement. To say I didn’t cry, eat too much ice cream, and kiss a few too boys to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with me, would be a lie. And there you have it, the story of B.
After all that, we are still pretty good friends, and talk at least a few times a month. He and Josh are very happy.
48 Hours in Asheville
2 weeks ago