The minutes without Tate seemed last for hours on end. The hours seemed like days, and the days seemed like months, which were like years. Could I paint a clearer picture? Probably, but I'm not much of an artist. And the break up was just horrible. Neither of us wanted to be there, and it was so evident. I had to be strong for Tate, because she was crying as she told me the terrible news. As she talked about their bigger house in Atlanta, and how her parents were getting significantly larger raises to compensate for their having to re-locate their home, it finally hit me--we were breaking up. What a sinking feeling it was. For once in my life I felt depressed, angry, frustrated, miserable, and pain all at once. And yet I couldn't show too much emotion, for Tate's sake. Even though it was pretty much killing me inside, I just couldn't. It wasn't an option. Even worse was having to leave her there because I had to be home by four to finish up some editing with Matt and Jamie. What a wreck I must've been once I entered the house. But my mind remained on Tate. Was she all right? Should I have stayed? Should I call her up just in case? But with a painful feeling, I realized that I was no longer required to do so anymore. I wasn't her boyfriend anymore. Just a friend. Again. And, with the show ending it's run on ABC Family, I was finding less things to be happier about. College was starting up again, and this time Kevvie and I were actually moving out of our parents' houses and into a condo. It was HUGE. It felt different, being in a strange new room that I was to call my own from now on. And as I sat on the edge of my bed, sorting out the stuff that was to go on my desk, on my nightstand, and on my walls, I couldn't help but wonder if I should give Tate a call on her cell. But I didn't. I wanted closure. I'd stay in touch with her just as promised, yes, but I wouldn't call her right away. Not tonight. I dreaded that one day where I would call and ask how things were, and she's say she found someone new. But that day never came. At least, it hasn't yet. Because you see, Ryan surprised me with the greatest house-welcoming gift that very same afternoon... Tate. I couldn't believe my eyes... I wasn't sure if I was being delusional or not. But there she was. In what was to be my favorite dress on her, just out of pure sentiment for that very special day. She told me, between my playful kisses on her cheek, that her Dad had agreed to let her attend DePaul simply because it was a prestigious school. More so than Georgia University. What was required from her was that she visited home every holiday and that she call every weekend. Which was a small fee, truth be told. It was an indescribable feeling, having her back in Illinois, where she belongs. Granted, I don't have her in any of my classes, but we still eat lunch together and fight over pizza, and all that stuff we used. It was just like old times... at long last. Halloween came and went--she and her girlfriends had to throw a party for their dorm building, so unfortunately she couldn't come up with me and the boys to Wisconsin. I got to help her get ready, though--she went as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, only since we didn't have a stuffed dog, she had to improvise with a green dragon I had won at Disneyland. Classic, eh? I wore my mustard bottle costume, and Kevin took pictures like a freakin' tourist. Then I changed out of my mustard costume, stuck it in the trunk, said goodbye to Tate, and got in the car and zoomed off with Kev to Robbie's house. Tate couldn't eat Thanksgiving with my family because of her promise to visit on the holidays, but she did call the house at about nine at night to tell me that she had told her parents about 'us' and that they weren't upset, but simply surprised that their daughter went to all those lengths to be with her boyfriend. But she said it's all good because they are pleased that I, too, attend DePaul. Whew. After Thanksgiving was Christmas. Again, she had to fly home, but the day before her flight, we exchanged gifts at the condo. I got her a necklace, well, a silver locket... it was my first splurge after the condo, but it was all worth it. Tate made a thick photo album/scrapbook for the pictures I had of us. I finally had a place to put them, instead of in a box or in a stack. It was so great. Valentine's Day was... ohh man, I wish I had my video camera handy. I took a tip from some Freddie Prinze Jr. movie and lit candles upstairs that illuminated little messages to her so that she'd know where to find me. Little did she know I was in Ryan's gorilla suit, waiting for her in the bathroom. I scared the bejeezus out of her, I think, for she stumbled and fell backwards into the hallway. Then, to make up for it, I led her into the room we were to spend Valentine's in eating desserts and all that good stuff. Needless to say, she loved it, but I was to pay for nearly giving her a heart-attack on what was supposed to be a romantic night, not Halloween. She tackled me onto the floor when I least expected it and rubbed frosting and little cheesecake squares into my face. It felt, for lack of a better word, disgusting, and I sure learned my lesson. My face was caked with the stuff, but I must admit that it tasted delicious. Tate had a jolly good time laughing her head off at the result of her madness while I hobbled to the bathroom to wash off. I still think that to this day I smell of cherries and chocolate syrup. But, Valentine's Day was, for the most part, a good one, considering it was our first one together. I didn't see her at all during her spring break trip with the fam to California, so of course I was thrilled to see her again afterwards. Then came the next summer and our first anniversary (we decided to just ignore the fact that we had a little separation from when she first moved away). Which sucked because we couldn't spend it together... nope, her parents were sailing her off to the Caiman Islands for a cruise. Fudge. |
| Love, Brendan |