Steve

Today I found out via a text message that a former boyfriend died suddenly Thursday night from an as yet unknown cause.

He was in his 50s.

Far too young to die.

Long ago, when we first met I was madly in love with him and imagined that we had a future together.

But it was a long distance relationship and he seemed more happy being single than being with me for the long haul so we parted ways.

I’ll never forget when (nearly a decade later) he added me as a friend on Facebook.

Bold, I thought.

But Steve was always bold and daring.

And smart as a whip!

We managed to meet up a few times and catch up on the latest and greatest in our lives.

He took me on a sailboat ride around the bay and we ran out of gas.

Literally.

Ironically, neither one of us knew how to sail properly at the time.

Despite that, I had a lovely day on the water with him.

I took pictures and blogged my trip, for which he suggested the title “Fucking Steve!”

I will remember him as the strong, invincible, highly intelligent man I knew him to be.

If I know Steve, he’s in Valhalla celebrating his eternal soul with a beer and pretty ladies while telling stories of his amazing life.

Run in with the ex

I’ve taken a new position on campus which has relocated my office to a more central location.

Close to food, the gym, and the bookstore.

Sadly, as I learned on my 2nd day on the job, it also puts me closer to my ex boyfriend.

A few days ago, I struggled to carry home a HUGE Harry & David stack of gift boxes. I was so exhausted from the weight of it all.  I huffed and puffed and sweat and shuffled down the walkway under the weight of 50 pounds of fruit and chocolate when…

… I looked up and saw a man waving at me.

Oh shit.

Luke.

And here I am all sweaty, worn out, and out of breath.

He suddenly looked pained, turned, and kept walking. And then it got worse.

His wife (who he married less than a year after we split) was there waiting for him.

I quickly ducked behind a van and pretended to be busy.

But I couldn’t help but wonder why the hell did the little cheater wave hi?

The last time he saw me I was bawling my eyes out begging him not to go,

Classy then. Classy now.

I struggled to get to my car after the happy couple drove off.  All the while I was musing on this strange interaction.

Wave hi… why not introduce your ex girlfriend to the woman you left her for? That sounds like a brilliant idea. That won’t be awkward AT ALL!

The man who would have come running to help me with my boxes just let me struggle on.

How effing far we’ve come.