Conclusion

They say every time God closes a door, he opens a window. . . (right?)


After that night at my house, I left for Denton. I found a boyfriend - well, I found a loser. When I came home for the holidays, Lance would call me and he would take me out to dinner or we'd go to a movie.

I should probably back up a little. This boyfriend slash loser of mine truly was a loser. It didn't take me that long to figure it out, but I stuck with him for almost six months. I moved to Denton on a Sunday in August and we got together the following Thursday. He picked me up from my dorm and we went to a party (hosted by the University of North Texas drumline - badasses of the band dorks, for those of you not familiar with the social status of the band population). Anyhow, we spent most of the night sitting by the keg, talking. It was also at this said party that I was introduced to a guy named Mike, who will show his face again many other times in my future - hey Mike! Like I said before, we lasted almost six months. I broke up with him at the end of January.

This brings me back to dinner and a movie with Lance on holidays. The spring semester ends and I find myself back in San Antonio for the summer. The dorms closed and I moved home for the summer to prepare myself (and my parents) for my 21st birthday - woohoo!! I also found myself in a garage drinking beer at the house where Lance was staying. We did this quite often. We would flirt, drink beer, hang out, have fun, yadda yadda. I got a job working as a receptionist for a CPA just down the street from the building where Lance worked and we would meet for lunch pretty frequently.

Now, while Lance and I were hanging out with his friends in their garage, it was often mentioned about how the two of us were "just friends". In spite of his best efforts, I still couldn't see myself actually dating this guy. Then one night, he took me to see Notting Hill (a bear of a guy, but loved the chick-flicks!). We were once again standing outside of my house - a different one than before, my folks moved when I went to Denton. He looked so good standing there in his cowboy hat. Yep, that's right, cowboy hat. And as I stood there, I realized that I wanted to take back all the things I said to him about why I didn't want to cross that line. So I did. I said some things, he smiled, I took off his hat, put it on my head, tilted it back, and kissed him. And that was that.

At least for the summer. I was so smitten, that the fact that I turned 21 was greatly overshadowed by him.

The end of summer was glooming over me and it came way too fast. And I could go on about how things ended, but they did, in fact, end. Much to my surprise, I wasn't ready for that. I hadn't cried like that over a boy - drunk in a bathroom at a bar - since I was 17. Wait, that didn't come out right. I wasn't drunk in a bathroom crying over a boy when I was 17 . . . just 17, crying over a boy. Got it? Good. Where was I? Oh yeah, the end. That was the summer of 1999.

I saw him a couple times after that, but not many. We talked on the phone about, well, just stuff. I actually remember a conversation involving the word "psycho". . . but I don't need to go into detail about that! The last conversation I had with Lance, he told me he wasn't sure what he wanted to do, so he was going to get a boat and be a pirate. Classic Lance.

About 3-4 years later, I get a text message from my friend Arianna. This doesn't seem the best way to end these postings, but sometimes you don't get the end that you want.

For those of you following the story, you know the ending. If you are new, follow the Arianna link. I have also included a link at the top from the San Antonio Express News. Just click on the title "Conclusion".