I guess I just figured, why make something disposable like a building when you can make some last forever, like a greeting card.

(500) Days of Summer

This story is getting harder and harder to tell, now that I know how it ends, which is why the post are getting farther and farther between. But, since I don't bring my computer home on Monday nights, it makes the perfect placeholder.

When we last left off, I was in Gainesville, the happiest place on Earth that is not owned by Walt Disney's heirs, and George was in Tampa, two hours south. We had just had the first fight, and while I would like to say "of many," it simply isn't true. We never fought. We never disagreed. He screwed up and I said "that's okay."  My birthday was approaching, and without realizing it, he would start a lovely tradition.

My birthday was actually on a Friday night that year, and we'd talked and talked about it up until the time of the actual date. He would be coming up that weekend, of course, and there was the promise of romance. He talked about how he wanted to come up that Thursday night and suprise me by being at the Swamp, sending me a drink right at midnight, and then when I went to look for who sent it, a surprised me would find him sitting at the bar. I'm sure we'd run up to each other in slow motion and a fan would be blowing my hair and some beautiful melody would be playing in the background as everyone else was frozen in place. We were that stupid in love. But, he lamented, he had to work on Friday, and couldn't get the day off, so he'd come up right after work.

A little bit of background history to insert here about my birthdays. My 17th birthday was the worst day of my life, and The Aunt got married two days before my 18th birthday, so I went all Sixteen-Candles-nobody-remembers-me-or-loves-me for that day and made her sincerely regret I was even invited to the wedding, much less a bridesmaid. (And she was very right, by the way...) So, at this point in my life, I didn't like birthdays, didn't mention them, and most certainly didn't let other people know I was having one on that very day.

When he came to town, he stayed at his fraternity house, and I typically followed him around like the puppyish girlfriend I was. This weekend was no exception. There was a frat party that night, and since it was my 21st birthday, he knew that my sorority sisters would take me out to celebrate, even though we hadn't expressly talked about it. Besides, there was a fraternity party at the house that night, and while I offered to go with him, he assured me that it was a "brothers only" thing, and none of the other girlfriends were coming and I should just go out with my sisters and live it up.

By the time we got off the phone, etc., I realized that no one was home, except Hogan, and she was heading out the door. I asked where she was going, and she said she was headed out to the party. I mentioned that George had said it was a brothers only thing, but she was under the impression that girlfriends were invited, which was why Lex Luther had asked her to come. She said I could come with her, but at this point, I wasn't about to crash that party. So, I sent her off and went to my room to spend my 21st birthday crying by myself.

Luckily, a couple of sisters came home at just that moment and found me crying, figured out why, and demanded that I throw on a dress and hit the town with them. While we went out to have a margarita to celebrate, Hogan and Lex Luther made it to the party and told George that I was at home by myself, with no plans to leave. I'm also pretty sure that she gave him the what-for when she found out it was my birthday. George had this new thing called a cell phone, so he tried to call me all sorts of apologetically, but got my answering machine. Knowing I was at home sobbing my eyes out and that he had royally screwed up, he knew he needed to get home immediately, but also knew he was in no condition to drive. So, he started walking.

When I got home from margaritas, I found him sitting on my front steps, all sorts of apologetic...and drunk. This started a tradition of never being with me on my birthday, only to apologize in grand gestures later. Actually, he wasn't there for me a lot of the time, only to apologize with a grand gesture early in the relationship, and late in the relationship...well, he didn't really see what the big deal was anyways.

Should I have seen this coming and run then? No. Not really.
Should I have remembered it a year later, when once again he was not around when I needed him? Absolutely.