'Tis Better to Have Loved and Lost ...

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Title comes from the saying (one of the many platitudes my parents offered me after the breakup), "'Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all." It's also nice foreshadowing ...

"I wrote half of it when I was with [Tina] and I wrote the other half after we broke up, so it's a little uneven, ya know?" -- Adam Sandler, from The Wedding Singer.
(Actually, I wrote the whole thing after we broke up, but I thought the quote was funny, so I included it.)

We met in the seventh grade on the volleyball court at lunch. It started innocently enough. She was all alone, hitting the ball into the net, so I joined her. She was shocked that someone actually cared. She didn't say much, but eventually I found out that her name was Tina and she was also in the seventh grade. After a few rounds of one-on-one, she and I wound up talking, laughing, cutting up, and having a wonderful time. I told her the youth at my church got together on Monday afternoons, and I invited her to come. She was reluctant at first, until I mentioned that we played volleyball every week.

Soon she was coming to church Sundays and Wednesday nights. As the year went on, she and I became best friends and began to spend more and more time together. We'd sit together in Sunday School, get on the same team in volleyball and kickball, and even ride together on the church bus. Life was wonderful.

For those of you who don't know, B-C (short for Brookland-Cayce) and Airport were rival high schools on opposite ends of town. The middle school we attended was split, about 70% going to B-C, the other 30% going to Airport. (It has since been re-zoned, so they all go to B-C.)

"Um, do you wanna, um, go out sometime? Maybe?" I stumbled over my words as I wiped the sweat from my brow.

"I, ... I mean, go out like ...," I struggled with the next few words, "b-, boyfriend-girlfriend, not just like friends?"

We embraced and held each other for what seemed like years. Tears came to my eyes. "So this is love!" I thought.

I laughed, I cried, I hugged her again and apologized. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!!"

I looked her in the eyes and wanted to scream, "Tina, I love you and nothing will ever change that!" but instead I just hugged her again.

If you're not familiar with the "Jaws of Life", it's a tool used extract people from a car that has been mangled in a wreck. Here's a nice Wikipedia article on it, if you want to find out more.

Our dates consisted of fine dining and a night on the town in a chauffeured limousine. One such date, Mom picked Tina up and took us in our blue Oldsmobile to Park Lanes Bowling Alley. We bowled two free games, using some passes I had.

For supper, we went to Waffle House. We both ordered bacon, egg, and cheese on toast with a side order of hash browns and cheese, slightly greasy and smothered in ketchup. We spent more money on the jukebox than we did on supper, though -- everything from "I Can't Help Falling in Love With You" by the King of Rock 'n' Roll himself to "Hero" by Mariah Carey. We played "Hero" at least twenty times.

The next date, we ate supper first. My dad took us to McDonald's. I spilled ketchup all down the front of my favorite T-shirt. After ten minutes in the bathroom, you could barely make out the red spot on my shirt -- the pink soap stain and water hid it nicely.

From there, we went to Skate Station U.S.A. I've always heard that a skating rink is the best place to pick up a date, because that's where most of them fall down. That night I found out first-hand what that meant. Every five seconds, you'd hear a scream, a thud, and a cry of anguish. Then you'd hear Tina comforting me and trying to coax me back onto my feet. I never managed to break a bone, but I sure tried. After being beaten black and blue from head to toe, I finally gave up. I never had so much fun in my entire life.

At the height of our relationship, my family decided to drag me off to Florida for a week. I tried to enjoy Daytona Beach and Disney World, but I missed Tina. I wrote Tina like I promised, but I got back before the postcard did.

The day after we came home, I went over to Tina's house to visit her. I also brought her a few souvenirs I picked up while I was down there: a purple pen with "Florida" in big gold letters, and a keychain with her name on it.

I also gave her my cross necklace, but my mom made me get it back from her.

Then came July 1, a day that shall live in infamy. Tina and I planned to go out with some friends from work. That day, I called to double-check the details and to see if it was still on. She told me something came up and we couldn't go. I told her it was OK, and maybe we could reschedule it. I spent the rest of the night alone twiddling my thumbs. Little did I know that not only had she gone out without me, she had gone out alone with another guy.

One thing I didn't mention in the story -- my grandfather passed away on the Monday of that week. The funeral was that Wednesday. I don't know if her original plans were to "let me down easy" that Friday night by introducing me to her "friend" and then telling me she wanted him to become more than a friend or what.

Also, she never really came out and told me that she did this. The way I found out -- one Sunday night they were talking (in front of me, no less!) about celebrating their "One Month Anniversary" the next day -- August 1. If there was any doubt, they were trying to figure out why their one-month anniversary was on a Monday when they started going out on a Friday. They realized their misunderstanding (one month vs. 4 weeks) and went on with it. I didn't say anything. Maybe I should have.

The next day I went out and bought her a card that told her how much I loved her, since I couldn't quite put it into words myself. I also went to a record store and bought all of the singles of "our songs". I taped them all on one cassette and planned to give them to her the next day at church. I still have the card and the tape.

That night she called me from work. "Sorry I wasn't at church this morning. I ... I have to tell you something, but I don't know how to say it. I just have this feeling that something bad's going to happen and we won't be friends any more."

"I don't know. Sometimes I just hate myself. I don't want to hurt you, ... but we need to break up." My heart stopped. When I didn't say anything, she continued, "Our friendship means more to me than anything ..."

"No! Of course not! What do you mean?" I thought to myself. "Yeah, I guess. I don't wanna lose our friendship either, but why ...?"

Um, you're a little late with that, dude.

We talked a lot the next few days, but we still didn't settle anything. To make matters worse, the next Wednesday night, I stumbled into Tina and "him" out behind the church teaching each other mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

What was worse (yeah, like you wanted to know this) -- she and I never kissed while we were dating, and this is the first thing I see them doing!

Then one Sunday, she met me on the way out. Of course she had "him" with her. We embraced and held each other for what seemed like years. Tears came to my eyes. I whispered "I love you!" in her ear, but this time she was silent. And there "he" stood as a silent reminder that Tina was no longer mine and would never be mine again.

Written by Ricky Duval, 12th grade -- 1994-5.
Computer version written Thursday, September 15, 2005.