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Gather 'round, for you're about to hear a break-up story for the ages.
First, we must hop into the Way-Back Machine and travel to 1987....
I just got out of the Air Force's Technical School and was home on leave. I was sitting in the recruiters’ office when a friend from high school walks in with one of the hottest girls I had ever laid eyes on. We’ll call her Chesa. We start talking and the conversation turns to how awesome Depeche Mode is. It turned out they were playing at the Cow Palace in 4 days. I was quite upset since I had no tickets. Chesa told me, “I have an extra ticket.”
*swoon*
We go to the concert but nothing happens. She has a boyfriend.
One week later….
I’m with some friends having coffee when Chesa and a friend walk in. They sit down at our table after recognizing me. The friend is from Germany. She’s a foreign exchange student. How cool, I’m being stationed in Germany. We talk. Turns out she lives only an hour from where I’m stationed. We make plans to meet when she returns home. Chesa and I spend the rest of the evening making googly eyes at each other. We’re 18, it’s what we do.
She has a secret for me. She broke up with her boyfriend the day after the concert. We go see “The Princess Bride” at the movies (yeah, I’m old). We smooch after the movie. I have 3 weeks left before going to Germany. Should we do this? Do we want to start a relationship we know can’t go anywhere?
Our hormones do the talking. We’re inseparable for the next 3 weeks. She drives me to the airport. We promise to call and write all the time (remember kiddies, there was no internet then). This works for 2 months.
I meet a girl. My hormones say, “Chesa is in California, this girl is right here and wants sex.” My hormones win. I do the honorable thing and tell Chesa we can’t do this anymore. Well, not so honorable, I guess. Chesa says, “I’ll wait.” Sure you will….
Months and months go by. It’s been almost a year. I actually find myself still constantly thinking of Chesa. I break up with the girl I was seeing. Don’t ask me how, but the day after I break up, Chesa calls. “It’s been a long time. I was thinking about you yesterday and was wondering how you were.” I tell her that I broke up with my girlfriend. We decide to stay friends and start writing and talking again. Memories of our wonderful 3 weeks keep coming up so I get a crazy idea.
“Why don’t you come to Germany for a visit?” I ask. It turns out she had been saving her money to visit Kirsten, the foreign exchange student, over Christmas. That’s wonderful, I say. We can see each other again and we can figure out if this really is worth the effort.
I get ahold of Kirsten and we meet up at the airport. Chesa is going to stay with Kirsten for a week, then drive down to spend a week with me. I keep looking up the ramp, trying to get a glimpse of Chesa as she leaves the Customs area. After a few minutes I spot her. Something terrible happens. I feel nothing. I suddenly realize that I don’t want her there. I don’t know where this came from. I was so looking forward to seeing her but the instant I saw her, the feelings of missing her were gone and I realized I didn’t want to see her after all.
Uh-oh.
I dread the next week, wondering what the hell I’m going to tell her when she gets to my base. Finally, the dreaded day arrives. As I go to the base gate to sign her in, I feel no sexual chemistry at all. I feel no emotion, no desire at all. It’s just not there. I may as well have been greeting a stranger. On the walk back to the dormitory, she keeps using innuendo about how great it’s going to be, that as soon as we get back to the dorm she’s ripping my clothes off and yada yada yada. I begged my roommate not to go.
I’ve got to tell this girl the truth. I can’t let her stay here thinking something will come of this. I figure I tell her how I feel, we fight, and she calls Kirsten and finishes her stay in Germany with her. I was about to get one of the biggest surprises of my life.
We go get a drink. I confess to her how I’ve been feeling. The response I got was not at all what I was expecting. Her reply went something like, “Well that’s just fucking great! I bought a one way ticket thinking we’d be getting married!”
Let that sink in. She bought a one way ticket to Germany….
“I can’t go back to Kirsten’s. Her family just left for Switzerland for vacation. I can’t go anywhere.” She starts sobbing. I’m feeling horrible.
I offer to buy a one-way ticket back to the states for her until I realize that a one way ticket is going to be over $1,000. Things have changed since then.
I start brainstorming what I can do. This girl I work with just got divorced and lives off base by herself. We’re pretty good friends. Maybe I can ask for a favor and you can stay with her while we figure out what the hell to do.
It all goes downhill from there….Stay tuned for part 2.
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"I can normally tell how intelligent a man is by how stupid he thinks I am" - Cormac McCarthy, All The Pretty Horses
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