Commentary The Joys and Pain of 'True Love' By Jordynn Fulton (April 23, 2003)

My first thought, "Who died?!" Then the words slowly sputtered from her mouth as she sobbed, "He broke up with me."

"Are you kidding me?!" was my response, and although it was interpreted as sympathy, it was more disgust for making an emergency out of the tragic end of the two months, the beautiful two months they had spent together. This was tragedy, a 10 on the 10-point scale, right next to "Bad Hair Day." And there she was, begging for the attention of the entire senior class, hoping for their hatred to be directed toward this evil, horrible 18-year-old boy who would taint the soul of this poor helpless girl.

He was a football player, she was a cheerleader, so the story goes. He would be leaving to go to Arizona for college in five months; she would be staying in town to attend community college. 

At first, it was all just fun and games, they would flirt in class and hang out after football games, that is, until he asked her out on a date the Friday before the first day of spring break. He explained to her that he was not looking for a serious relationship, being that he was leaving in such a short time. Still, she agreed, and that Friday they went to Chili’s for dinner and then to his friend Ryan’s house. Ryan was having a party and this would be the perfect opportunity for the couple to make their debut appearance.

The dates became more frequent, and rather regular. He started getting cute notes left on his car in the student parking lot that he would pick up after baseball practice (it was spring, and being the athlete that he was, he played sports all three seasons of the school year.) She got the occasional flower in her locker. . .yes, this was true love, never mind that he was leaving for college very shortly.

The school year was winding down to the end, and although he was not officially her boyfriend, he still fit the position and played the role. She was not his girlfriend, at least she wouldn’t say so in front of him, but she knew she had a special place in his heart, and that no girl could take her place. That girl who answered his cell phone was just a friend, he swore…and the girl who text messaged him regularly was not even his friend, she was a friend of his sister…and his best friend who frequently spent the night at his house, well, that was completely platonic, she was sure. 

At prom they were the king and queen, such a lovely couple they made; and they received the "Most Likely to Get Married" title for the yearbook’s "Senior Stand-outs." "Things are perfect with us, I just know this is going to last forever," She would say shortly after he called her to cancel their anniversary dinner on account of a headache. However, his headache was magically cured when his buddies called him and asked him to accompany them to see "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back." 

When he scolded her for calling him at one p.m. on the day he promised to go to her cheerleading competition, she spent the whole day crying. We all tried to convince her that he was no good for her, but she wouldn’t listen. She was insistent that he must have a good excuse, no, a good reason. Later that night she told him that she was "breaking up with him because he kept forgetting little things." She was assuming, of course, that this would scare him and that he would plead with her to stay together. Instead, he said, "Fine, we graduate in a month anyway, I was going to tell you that we should probably not hang out so much anyway…I mean…I told you, I’m not looking for anything serious…" and on and on he droned.

So here she was, sobbing, acting as if it was some terrible shock that he broke up with her. Wait, no, that he "stopped hanging out," she wasn’t his girlfriend, remember? So there I was, offering her my shoulder to cry on, while my thoughts were borderline apathetic. Of course I felt some pity, but I wasn’t sure if it was because she was so stupid that it was frightening, or if it was because she had been betrayed by this monster who she called her boyfriend.

When I didn’t say much, she asked what I thought about the situation. I simply said, "I thought it was true love, too."