I don’t know where I got the confidence that I had in eighth grade, but somehow after having my first boyfriend I really thought that I was the shit. I wish that I could have bottled that confidence. It would have come in handy around the age of 19.
Eighth grade was one those years that will go down as being one my best. Along with 17 and 25. Good times.
In eighth grade, I was in an Honors math class with a boy name Jeremiah. He was cute, funny, smart, played soccer, dressed like a preppy. I had a hard time with math and Jeremiah would try to help me.
He was so different from Dusty. I broke up with Dusty so Jeremiah and I could date. Duh – I’m not a cheater!
The last couple of months of eighth grade were really fun because Jeremiah and I were dating. There was something about that time in my life that was so magical. Here my friends and I were, on the verge of starting high school, dating boys, riding horses. Too old to play with dolls, but not old enough to stop us from playing a game of hide and seek in the hay meadows at my best friend’s ranch. It was an amazing time in my life that I remember so sweetly. Before my mom got cancer, before my dad had to start working in another state and commuting every weekend, before I had my heart broken, and before I realized that friendship isn’t always forever. Things just seemed so easy.
One time Jeremiah came over to my house and we watched The Usual Suspects. It was his favorite movie and he wanted to share it with me.
I want you to sit back for a moment and let me describe how ridiculously cool my adolescent bedroom was. I had a love seat, a TV, and awesome posters and art work that only a 14 year old girl would like. Whatev. It provided an excellent environment for ahem, movie watching. Yeah, movie watching with the door open at all times. ALL TIMES. If the door closed for even a moment I had my own Chastity Police security guard, my little brother, who would quickly sound the alarm, “Mom!!!! Jenny’s door is shut!”
Thanks James. No, really. Thanks for being a little brother who wanted to protect his sister.
I got cocky and broke up with Jeremiah to date Dusty again. I can’t really give a good reason for that other than I was 14. And boy crazy. It was a really stupid thing to do. After we broke up he didn’t speak to me for two years. Not an easy feat when your class only has 120 people. I totally deserved that.
Jeremiah would have made an excellent high school boyfriend. He was sweet, smart, and kind. Alas, our lives took different paths. I joined the Cowboy crowd, started rodeoing and chasing cowboys. Jeremiah kept playing soccer, kept taking Honors math classes, and was still a smart, great guy on the day that we graduated from high school together.
Later in life Jeremiah and I went to the same college and we were both in a crazy English class. The kind of the English class where the teacher doesn’t grade you because, “Man, you grade yourselves on the way you live your life.” He was the teacher who said, “If George Bush gets elected I’m moving to Mexico.” And then he did and he did.
After this crazy English class where we would celebrate our feelings, Jeremiah and I would walk together after class and I still thought that he was a great guy. Still super smart, still super funny.
FYI, Jeremiah if you are out there you borrowed He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (my favorite French movie) that year that we took that English class. You never gave it back. I hope you are enjoying it, but if you’re ever in Reno I would like it back. For realz.
Why it ended: Because I was stupid
What I learned: That being reckless with someone’s heart is a really stupid thing to do. I wouldn’t know that until later when my heart had been broken. I was careless with his feelings and it is definitely something I regret. We may have only been 14, but I didn’t handle the situation with kindness.
Next up in the High Fidelity Series – the first guy that made me cry.