Hale Kilinahe: The Journal

DECEMBER 7, 1997 I was reminded of a not-very-pleasant part of the recent past today. Please don't think any differently of me, because I'm about to confess something that is a part of my life, but I haven't discussed with a soul since I was living these events. Last summer, me and my husband broke up. He was just my boyfriend then. We'd been together for three years. All was going perfectly until I started the midnight shift the summer before last. I began the job, and I met a man. He was the fantasy man of my adolescence. Long hair, bad attitude, past career as a drummer in a locally famous heavy metal band. To make a long story short, I fell in lust, I told him, he eventually asked me out, I went, and my relationship ended. I began seeing the other guy. The fling was short, short-lived and soon, I was seeing my husband again, but there were so many hurt feelings (mostly his) that we were never sure where we were going to go from there. I have one very specific memory about that whole era. I had a very emotional lunch with Ryan, my husband, shortly after the breakup. He wanted me to come home, I was confused because I was convinced the other guy was in love with me. In the restaurant, I heard a song; it was always one of my favorite tear-jerk love songs and the circumstances made me positively weepy. I heard the song today at work and was taken back to that lunch and the entirety of my fling. Please believe me when I say I would take back every minute of it. I love my husband. He's the one for me. You don't truly know who the man of your dreams is until you leave him behind to be with a rather poor imitation. I sincerely thought for a long time that the other guy was it, but all that I remember now is a sense of disappointment. < BACK | TOP | NEXT >