Posted by: bourbonmama | 15/04/2009

WBW # 14: The Big Ex, part 1

I met Travis shortly after moving back home. I was coming off another bad break-up (my romantic history is really just a bunch of bad break-ups). I was at that point in the healing stage where you want to have a little bit of revenge, call it karmic retribution, on men (or boys in my case). Because, really all men are scum and deserve to pay for what some men have done, right? No, you couldn’t tell my 18 year old self any different. So, a group of friends and I would get together 4-5 times a week and hang out. There was always alcohol, as well as some other things. *cough, cough*

One day, Travis showed up. He was a friend of a friend. Tall, dark and handsome, jet black hair, deep brown eyes, and dimples. Dimples like Sonny Corinthos. Whatever, fuck him, fuck guys. He became a regular fixture. It did not take long for my friends to start telling me that he’d been asking about me. And there it was, my golden opportunity. My chance to lead a guy on and then I could break his heart. I was sure he deserved it, he’d probably broken tons of hearts.

A couple of weeks went by, I let him take me out to dinner, pay my way when we’d all go out. Never investing too much into it. Never letting him know he had my full attention. It was hard though. Every time he’d smile at me with those dimples, the ice around my heart melted a little. Every time he’d show up with a rose, my wall crumbled a little.

And then, one night after a little too much to drink, I let my guard down. We had been sleeping in the same room in separate beds at my friend’s house. The next morning I woke up in his bed. I hate to say this, but I remember nothing from the time I passed out until that moment. I had climbed into his bed that night and asked him to cuddle. So much for his heart getting broken. That was April 21, 1999 (OHMYGOD I just realized that was a decade ago).

Things moved quickly from then on. Within weeks, he was talking about marriage (that should have been a warning sign). By July 23, we were living together. I’ve been reading through my journal, he is my white knight at this point. My parents were kicking me out and I had no one to turn to but him. He took care of me. We had nothing, not even a bed for the first two nights. Slowly but surely, that basement apartment became a home. His family enveloped me when I needed a family (mine was not speaking to me at that point). Things were good for a while, I thought I was going to marry him, we would have a little yellow house with a white picket fence, 2.4 kids and a dog. Shut up, I was 18 and in love.

On my birthday, Travis proposed. Diamond ring, one knee, the whole nine yards. We were engaged, but it’s not like I was ever actively planning a wedding, we never took it that far. I think giving me a ring was more of a territorial move than anything else, and what girl says “no” to sparkly gifts? Not this one! Of course, the honeymoon period eventually came to an end (the ring did not fix it, go figure). In later months, the ring would be used mostly as leverage in fights (we were so grown up). Around February of 2000 is when it started to fall apart. Every entry in my journal until the break-up is about the latest fight and what a controlling asshole he is. He didn’t trust that I was being faithful when I was out with my friends. Then in May, he turned 21, I was still 19. Now there was no trust between us. I don’t know how I thought it was going to work, but I did. I truly believed that we’d make it. I had invested everything into this relationship, given up all contact with my friends and family. He was all I had. We had to make it. Which is why I was so caught off guard by what happened next.


Stay tuned for part 2, next week…

p.s. Just so you know, I risked life and limb to show you those picture. OK, not life and limb, but dirty looks, the silent treatment, and severe tongue-lashings for scanning them into Philip’s computer (don’t worry they’re already deleted).
pic #1: me sprawled out across my friends’ laps, Travis is over my shoulder.
pic #2: me and Travis on his 20th birthday (May 99), right before he spent 29 days in jail (another red flag I missed) , and yes, I do realize how terrible I look with my hair pulled back while wearing white. With age comes wisdom.


  1. Oh boy….when is the next installment??

  2. I’m working on it right now, Yaya! Hopefully I’ll have it next week.

  3. NEXT WEEK????? I can’t wait till next week!!!

  4. Mmmmm….Sonny!

    On a totally separate note….I like the new Carly better. :-)

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