Soap Opera Sunday: Digging Out

Ahhh Soap Opera Sunday. Thanks so much to Abish for hosting this week! Want to know more about SOS? Click here for a description and rules! Brillig and I would love to have you play along if you’ve got any Soapy tales you’d like to share!

My story is a very long one, so if you need to play catch up, you’ll need an hour and the following links:

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here

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here

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and here.

Ready for more??
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I should have seen it coming. I should have listened to all the stories about how many times he got together and broke up with the mother of his son (even when she was ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE!). I should have listened to stories of all the other girlfriends he’d had and how it was impossible for him to commit and be faithful. I thought I was different. I thought we were meant to be.

The fact that it was TIFFANY’s voice on that message made it all the harder because I had decided to hate her with all my soul already. Had it been another girl it would have sucked, but thinking that he chose Tiffany over me made me want to run both of them over with my car.

I can’t remember the exact conversation I had with Richard, but I remember asking him if he was, in fact, going to marry her. He said something along the cop-out lines of she sort of thought so and he was going along with it. I told him not to call me anymore. He didn’t even apologize.

I lost another 10-15 pounds in just a few weeks. I would wake up every morning and for a brief second, I’d be happy to face my day, and then the reality of what had happened to me would backhand me in the face and I’d start crying all over again. The depression of the previous break-up was nothing compared to this. I’d let myself hope again and the result had been even worse for me. I was depressed. I didn’t know who I was. My normal, bubbly personality was gone. I was quiet, resigned, anorexic looking and went about my days like a robot performing it’s programmed tasks. It got to the point that my Mom suggested I get a prescription for an anti-depressant. I was hesitant because I didn’t want to walk around medicated, but I knew I had to do something. I was absolutely miserable. So I went to a doctor and got me some pills.

Within two days, the clouds parted and the sunshine seemed to appear again. I started to feel HUMAN again. I was able to eat, smile, laugh and find joy in my life. I was a senior in college, halfway through my FINAL semester and I was finally back to being excited to graduate, to finish school and possibly go to New York and audition for Broadway or find whatever path my life needed to be on. I was finally excited to be alive again. And naturally, in my life, when you felt normal, you wanted BOYS. So, I went looking and in no time at all, I met a boy named Matt.

To be continued . . .

Soap Opera Sunday: Stupid Is As Stupid Does

I’m finally back! Sorry about the pause there. Dontcha hate it when life gets in the way? Especially of BLOGGING. Sheesh. Thanks and kisses to Brilly for hosting this week. If you want to learn more about the rules and fun behind Soap Opera Sunday, you can go here for more details. For the record, I am a bad co-host and Brillig rules.

I am deep (DEEP)into the saga of my life so if you need to catch up you can go

here

here

here

here

here

here

here

and finally here

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After Richard’s message, I turned into one of THOSE girls. The weak, sniveling, lame girl who lets a guy get away with murder as long as he apologizes and says he’ll try to be better. Except I was worse. I didn’t make Richard apologize, I didn’t call him out on how horrible he’d been — none of it. I simply tried to make things go back to how they’d been before New York.

Shockingly, things never went back. I was making all the effort. I was driving to Salt Lake two or three times a week to see him and he stopped coming down to Provo. I was arranging dates and showing up to support him at his numerous sporting events. I was being SO stupid.

The one thing he actually did was call me every night before he went to bed and I think that kept me hanging on. No matter how late he got in, he’d call. If I’d just left his house, he’d call. Those late night conversations were (and in memory continue to be) the best part about our relationship. No pretenses, no acting cool in front of others, just talking about our days, our plans . . . everything. But as any dumb idiot (except me) could see, late night phone calls were not enough, yet I tried and tried to make them be. I was hanging on by a thread.

For Valentine’s Day that year I got him a small present and planned a night for us to go out to dinner. I called him after I got off of work to arrange to meet and he didn’t answer. He didn’t call me back for four hours. We’d obviously missed our reservation and couldn’t do anything. He’d been playing basketball at the church and thought that was much more important. I was already in Salt Lake so I went to his house to give him his present, holding my breath thinking he might have purchased something for me. Nope. Nothing. I handed him his present and said “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

He looked at me frowning and said “I didn’t think we were Valentine’s Kate.”

That should have been my que to run away, right? Slap him in the face and get out. No, of course not. That, in my head, was my que to try HARDER. Go to his sports events MORE often. Get him more little presents. I had to give it my ALL to show him how awesome I was!

This was the year that Salt Lake City was hosting the Olympics, so I had a week off of school to attend the festivities, so I was in Salt Lake a lot more. Richard and I met up a few times to go to the tents set up downtown to hang out and had a good time. The night of the closing ceremonies we had talked about meeting up to go watch the fireworks, so I arrived at his house with coats, hot chocolate and blankets. He had, of course, decided he didn’t want to go anymore and that we should watch on TV. Desperate once again to spend time with him, I agreed.

We watched the show and it was great, though through the window I could hear the booming of the fireworks that we should have been OUTSIDE watching. Then we made out. Because, well, why not? I remember Richard’s phone was ringing quite a bit throughout the night, but he ignored it since I was there (a step in the right direction maybe??). After the show was over, we were sitting next to each other on the couch and Richard made what would be a fatal mistake. He went to check his voicemail and while typing his passcode, said it out loud.

I immediately started chewing my lip, wishing I could forget what had just happened. I knew myself and I knew that I would NEVER EVER be able to resist using that passcode when we weren’t together. I was far too nosy for my own good.

I lasted about three days before the itching inside took over. I will never forgt the first time I used that passcode to check his messages. I was sitting in my office at work with the door shut so no one would bother me. I picked up the phone, dialed his number, waited for his voicemail to pick up, pushed pound and then nervously dialled the four digit code. SUCCESS! I was in! He had no new messages and one saved message. Ha. Press 1 to hear saved messages. I was so going to listen to whatever it was.

What I heard was NOT what I expected. A female voice “Hi Richard! It’s Tiff! Why aren’t you picking up your phone? Why are you ingonring your fiance? I just wanted to tell you how excited I am to be your wife. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I was watching the fireworks of the closing ceremonies tonight and thinking about how much better it would have been to be watching with you. Hope you had a good night. Love you”

I started shaking and dropped the phone. My vision suddenly blurred and I felt faint. I put my head between my knees in an attempt not to pass out and stayed there with tears streaming down my face. As soon as I had gained some sort of composure I told my boss I needed to leave for the day and I drove home sobbing hysterically. Somewhere in there I called my best friend Sheila who raced over to my house to be with me so I wasn’t alone and she held me for hours while I cried, and cried, and cried.

Don’t be shocked by what I’m about to say . . .

To Be Continued . . .

**Disclaimer: Stupid Blogger turned off their spell check, so please forgive any spelling errors. I didn’t know until right now it was turned off and I don’t have Word on this computer. From now on I promise to spell check and all that stuff. PROMISE.

Soap Opera Sunday: How to Lose a Dress Size in Ten Days (or less)

Welcome back to Soap Opera Sunday! Thanks to Shellie of Little But Loud for hosting this week! We love, love , love you guys for hosting for us! For the details and rules of SOS, check out this post!

Now, my story has been going for quite a while now, so if you need to catch up (prepare yourselves) you need to go
here
here
here
here
here
here
then finally here for the whole story.

PHEW. All caught up? Ok let’s continue . . .
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Pretty much the rest of the trip to New York sucked for me. I won’t go into the gory details, but as you can tell, Richard spent a lot of time on the phone, presumably with SHE who shall not be named (at this moment at least!), a lot more time watching sports and ignoring me. I spent a lot of time trying not to cry as I lost the boy I thought was my future.

On the plane ride home we talked and I tried to calmly beg him to give me another chance. He was having none of it. It was too fast (UM who’s fault was THAT?), it was too much, he wasn’t ready, blah blah blah.

His family was at the airport to pick him up when we landed. We waved good-bye and I hopped in the car with Rhonda and her boyfriend (who had picked us up) and held in my tears until I walked in the door of my house.

Then the gates of hell were opened. Right in our front entry, I dropped my suitcase, fell into a massive heap on the floor and started to sob. I had never in my life, despite being dumped more times than I care to count, felt this kind of emptiness and despair. I felt hollow and broken. I cried and cried and cried until I couldn’t speak and there were no more tears. I fell asleep sobbing and woke up every hour through the night and began sobbing again.

I couldn’t get out of bed the next morning. My Mom had to drag me from under the covers and force me into the shower. It was my first day of my final semester in college and there was no way I could miss it. My usual half and hour morning routine took me two hours. My skin was ashen, my eyes were lifeless and my hair was limp.

I went to school but I wasn’t there. I went to work but I wasn’t there either. I don’t know where I was. I was like a robot, going from place to place with no real concept of what was going on around me.

Adrienne was furious when I told her what had happened. She too had thought Richard and I were meant to be together. She had known Richard since the beginning of high school and couldn’t believe he would treat anyone the way I had been treated the last week.

My other friends, who already hated Richard, I’m sure had to bite their tongues to hold back the “told you so” and they were so wonderful. They were with me every day, trying to make sure I was eating and functioning.

Within four days all of my clothes were too big. My already skinny body began to look emaciated and hollows began to form around my once shining eyes. I was in a deep dark depression and felt like I was never going to get out.

Then, exactly one week from the day we returned from New York I got a message from Richard on my cell phone.

“Hey bud! I miss you! Where have you been and why haven’t you been calling me? I still owe you a romantic birthday dinner, just the two of us. Call me back and we’ll make plans. Wherever you want, whatever you want. Seriously, I miss you. Call me back.”

Soap Opera Sunday: The beginning of the bad that lasts a VERY long time

So, um, I’m sort of lazy and pretty much a cheapskate. They didn’t have wireless internet at my sister’s house and I was having way too much fun to blog (gasp! I know!) and then wireless wasn’t free at the airport. Sooooo, you’re getting an incredibly late version of Soap Opera Sunday. Again. But at least on Sunday this time, right?

To catch up on my super long saga, you can go here, here, here, here, here and here. And don’t even worry, we haven’t even covered the first month of Richard’s and my relationship yet!

Well, last week when we left off I had just been dumped on my birthday and Richard was being a douche AND we were on our way to my scary Dad’s house.

I rented the car and we headed out to drive the two-ish hours to Lancaster, PA. Since the car was in my name, Richard wasn’t supposed to drive it, I had to drive the whole time, and like the kind ex-boyfriend he was turning out to be, he slept the whole time. Oh and I got HORRIBLY lost. So our two hour drive turned into a four hour drive and I had no companion the entire time because he was snoring. Stellar.

When we arrived, my Dad was cooking dinner and before even saying hi he turns from the stove and shouts “Hey honey! Happy Birthday! Did you get drunk?”

“No Dad. Still Mormon. Still no drinking.”

“Well did you get laid?”

“Nope. Still Mormon. Still no sex.”

“What a f***ing waste of time!”

“Uhhh, Dad, this is Richard. Richard, my father in all his glory.”

Things just went downhill from there (just when you think it can’t get worse, right?). My stepmother wasn’t home yet and Dad just set out to grill Richard. Why didn’t he see his son? Was he going to church? Why didn’t he go to church? Didn’t he know that the girl he was dating took church very seriously? It went on and on and on and was making both Richard and I very uncomfortable. Especially considering our extremely recent break-up that I hadn’t told anyone about yet.

Yikes.

We had an awkward family dinner and went downstairs to watch football, which was turning out to be the only thing Richard wanted to do. He, of course, left the room to talk on the phone several times, but we spent the rest of the day watching all the games. I was pretty tired and headed to bed, asking him to come talk to me for a while. I was going to get to the bottom of the recent dumping and find out what the crap was going on.

Our conversation was actually going really well until at some point in the conversation I asked him a question about his family. I don’t remember what his response was exactly, but I remember he looked at me and called me Tiffany.

Tiffany was the Ex. The really recent Ex who I had just found out apparently had a problem with Richard and I being set up. The Ex who had sought out Adrienne (who had set us up) and asked her why she thought it was OK to set up HER boyfriend Richard with someone else. The boyfriend she had dumped. The Ex I already hated for trying to force Richard into going back to church before he was ready and who just seemed lame and pushy all the way around. And now he was apparently mistaking me for her. Then, within about fifteen minutes, he called me Tiff four or five times.

My feelings were very hurt. Once I could understand but FIVE TIMES? I was sort of at the end of my rope. With tears streaming down my face I asked him to leave the room and let me go to bed. We had a long drive back to New York the next day and were going to see The Lion King the next night. I needed to sleep and be away from him for a while.

The drive back sucked. We hardly said a word to each other and he made it very, very clear that he was mad that we were going to a musical when he just wanted to watch the College Football National Championship on TV. Too bad, said me, we had tickets and we were going. Final word on the issue.

Before the show, we were shopping near Rockefellar Plaza, I believe in the Banana Republic. I was across the room from Richard and he was on the phone with someone . . . and I had a feeling it was a girl because of the way he was talking. In my gut I knew who it was . . . I just KNEW, but I was hoping I was wrong.

Then, he did the most horrible, mean, stupid thing a guy has ever done to me.

He shouts, across the room “Hey Kate! What’s your last name? Tiff wants to know, I guess she had a cousin who went to high school with you.”

A. He didn’t even remember MY LAST NAME
B. TIFF?????? ON THE PHONE WITH HIM? WHILE WE WERE ON VACATION IN NEW YORK TOGETHER??
C. Bastard

Ever notice how when the guy you like has some sort of “thing” with another girl you stupidly decide to hate the girl rather than the retard you’re dating? Yeah, I did that. At that moment I decided I hated Tiffany with every last fiber of my being. HATED. HER. And would continue to do so for the next two years of my life.

That’s right folks, you heard me. TWO. YEARS.

Told you this saga lasts forever.

Another reason why I suck

So check me and my crappy weekend out.

Saturday morning, I woke up energized and happy. I went and worked out, got some stuff done around the house and then went to the mall with Matt. At the mall I started coughing up crap out of NOWHERE. Then, as the day moved on, I deteriorated and by the end of the night I was curled up in a miserable ball of achy, feverish chills and have remained that way ever since.

That’s why I didn’t write part 800 of my Soap Opera and I’m SO sorry. Dragging my butt upstairs to write this was about all the energy I had in me. Oh and I leave tomorrow morning for Orlando. I’m so excited. See my excited face. Nope, dreading the flight. HOWEVER, I am upgraded to first class, so at least I’ll be miserable in some sort of comfort on the plane.

I owe you guys a SOS post, so I promise to write it this week from my hotel room and not make you wait until Sunday. Deal?

OK off to bed with me. Kisses!

Soap Opera Sunday!

Hola. Welcome back to Soap Opera Sunday. Brilly-pooh and I decided it was my turn to host this week and I’m SUPER excited?? My story won’t be up for a little while but I wanted to make sure you guys could start entering your names in the Mr. Linky for your stories!

I have quite a few new readers (HI! Love you guys!) so if you’re confused and wonder what the crap Soap Opera Sunday is, go here to find the details and the rules! The more the merrier! We love hearing all your soapy tales! Make sure to leave a comment after your link and go read the stories! They are always SO great!

We also have an anonymous blog for Soap Opera Sunday just in case you want to share a story that you’re not as comfortable sharing on your own blog!

While I work on writing the NEXT part of my saga, you can catch up on the drama
here
here
here
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aaaand here

All caught up? Good. Now you have to wait for the next part, but not much longer!!!

Soap Opera Sunday: Too Good To Be True?

Welcome back sud lovers! Also, welcome any new peeps to Soap Opera Sunday! This week, Brillig is, once again, hosting our tales of soapiness. If you want to play along, or if you’re just curious as to what the crap Soap Opera Sunday is, read all about it here.

This story is a multi-part saga, and to those of you wondering, yes every word of it is true. To catch up on the biggest drama of my life, you can go here, here, here and here. In that order.

Ok, on with the show!

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After the random proposal (if you can call it that) I tried desperately to “keep my cool.”

I calmly said “Well, if we get to that point, we should really get married where our families are. I mean it’s stupid to require all those people to go as far as New York if there’s just the two of us there. “

Inside, it was more like “OH MY GOSH THE MAN OF MY DREAMS JUST ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM! Wait, he hasn’t even said “I love you yet.” Wait, and we’re still not kissing again and . . . and . . . and . . . ” And yet, despite the doubt creeping in, I fell even more in love with him.

Christmas was drawing nigh, and I had the perfect present for him. I’d found hard to get tickets to a Laker’s game in LA and bought the two of us plane tickets then added a whole Laker’s warm-up outfit for him. I was so excited to give him his present and couldn’t wait to see what thoughtful gift he’d purchased for me. I was imagining a romantic night with just the two of us having dinner and exchanging our gifts and, due to his earlier outburst about a wedding, I thought MAYBE some talks of our future together.

I was spending Christmas with Adrienne’s family (she had been the one to set Richard and I up, if you remember) because my family was in California and also because my best friend Rhonda and I were leaving for New York City the day after Christmas. What I thought was the best part was that and Richard had unexpectedly decided to join us there a few days later! I was so excited to be with him in my favorite city in the US. Neither he or Rhonda had ever been and I had so many fun things planned. I would be turning 21 while we were there and was absolutely thrilled.

So, Christmas Eve, the romantic gift exchange didn’t exactly go as planned. Richard came over to Adrienne’s house and we sort of casually exchanged gifts. He loved his gift and mine was a beautiful white sweater coat. The only problem was, Richard hadn’t picked it out. Adrienne had actually purchased it for me and then decided to get me something else and planned to take it back. Richard found out about it and bought it from Adrienne. So my gift WAS thoughtful . . .just not HIS thoughts. I didn’t let it bother me too much, I understand girls are hard to shop for. We had a good time together that night anyway.

Christmas Day I ran around Salt Lake with Kyle and Adrienne and their families, and then spent the evening helping Richard put together his new stereo and TV system, then giddily drove home to pack for my amazing vacation to New York.

What I didn’t realize at the time, was that I was in for what I can say with confidence was the worst week of my entire life.

Sorry to leave you hanging again, but I have to end it there so I don’t get 8,000 words into it and have to leave! Tune in next week for the gory details!

Soap Opera Sunday . . . The Big Deal That Really Wasn’t

Hello my SOS peeps! Thanks for coming back despite my cliffhanger that went unanswered forEVER.

Lovely Brillig is hosting SOS this week, so if you don’t know what it is, want to play along, or want a list of more awesome Soap Operas, head on over to her place where you’ll find all that fun stuff.

Here are links to the beginnings of my saga so you can catch up if you’ve forgetted what’s going on.
We met
We made out
We had our first big of drama

SO, now we continue.

After Richard said I would probably hate him for what he was about to tell me, I braced myself. All sort of things were going through my head . . . married, family hated me, gay, thought I smelled bad and couldn’t be around me again . . . it’s amazing how many bad things one can come up with in .5 seconds when faced with very bad news.

“I doubt I’ll hate you, Richard. You can tell me anything. I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal.” My voice was all shaky and squeaky, but I got it out.

“Well” he sighed, “I have a son. He’s six right now, and if you do the math, that means that he was born the summer after I graduated from high school when I was only 18. I got my girlfriend pregnant during our senior year.”

I felt bad but I almost wanted to laugh. THIS was the horrible thing that was going to make me hate him? Granted, we did live in a state that was something like 99% LDS (Mormon) and having sex AND a baby out of wedlock was very taboo, but I wasn’t really the judgmental type who wasn’t going to date a guy because he’d messed up in his past.

“Richard, I wouldn’t hate you for that! I’m sorry you were so nervous to tell me! I want to know all about him! What’s his name? Where does he live? Do you see him? What’s his Mom’s name?” I had a million questions and I, of course, was dying to meet his son.

As my questions were answered one by one, I realized a little more why he was nervous to tell me. He hadn’t seen his son in almost two years, despite their living less than twenty minutes apart. The mother was remarried and wanted her new husband to adopt the child. Richard, thinking he was doing what was best, wouldn’t sign the paperwork because his own father had done exactly that when Richard was young and it had really hurt him. However, he sort of . . . stepped out of his son’s life and didn’t have any immediate plans to return.

Our conversation that night went on for about three hours. Richard really opened up to me and told me a lot more about his life and the opportunities he felt he’d passed up because of his son. He was so young when he found out he was going to be a father and in order to do the “responsible” thing, he’d forgone several athletic scholarships to get a job at the family woodworking business and support his girlfriend and child.

While I didn’t necessarily agree with many of the choices he had made, it was obvious that he didn’t either and wished he could go back and do many, many things differently. He told me that many of the girls he’d dated in the past wanted nothing to do with him because of his lack of college education, the obvious mistakes and his (up until just recent) inactivity in our shared religion. He had felt the full effects of what can sometimes be a fairly closed minded, judgmental community, and he was very wary of it. I was sure to make it very clear that I wouldn’t be joining those passing judgment on him and that I was still very interested in dating him.

The next three weeks were absolute perfection. We lived an inconvenient 45 minutes away from each other but wanted to be together every day, so we just made it happen. We did all of our Christmas shopping together, we drove through horrendous blizzards to see each other. We spent every possible second in each others presence and we were both loving it. We spent time with each others families, bringing our younger siblings along sometimes, and basically, just integrated our lives.

There was one . . . problem. My friends couldn’t stand Richard. They thought he was obnoxious and rude. The night they met him, I felt like not one thing was going right. He was trying to be his goofy, fun self, but it was like everything he said was wrong and offensive. I sat through dinner and a movie with a whole group of my friends and their dates cringing the whole time. He didn’t like them and they didn’t like him. This had to be fixed! I loved being around him so much, and I couldn’t live without my friends! I just hoped everyone would come around because I was still pretty sure this guy was IT.

About a week before Christmas, Richard and I were driving to his house from a basketball game with all of his friends. (As a side note, in contrast to the night of meeting my friends, we’d had a great time. I loved all his friends and they seemed to love me — specifically, they loved me MUCH more than they’d loved the girl he’d just recently broken up with, which was nice to hear.) During the drive we were talking about how much fun the night had been and how great it would be if we lived closer to each other. Then, the conversation turned to the fact that I was graduating from college in one semester and, at the time, my plan was to move to New York City. I wanted to attempt to “make it” in the musical theatre world. I told Richard it was really what I wanted to do and that I probably wouldn’t change my mind about it.

Without missing a beat, Richard squeezed my hand and said “So, where do we get married? Here or in New York?”

The Future Looked Mighty Bright

Welcome back to what is most definitely going to be the LONGETST.SOS.EVER. I’m not lying, not even a little bit. This is the saga to end all saga’s and it’s going to take FOR.EV.ER.

Kisses and hugs to Thalia’s Child for hosting this week. She’s an angel. If you don’t know what Soap Opera Sunday is or are playing along for the first time, the rules are hither at darling Brillig’s site.

So, if you’re just tuning in, you can go here then here. If you don’t give a crap about my stupid former love life and wish I would write something more meaningful and less banal, you can go here. (just kidding. hahahahahaha I love Cartman)

Ahem. Moving on.

So, after our first glorious kiss, Richard and I spent the rest of the night/morning half asleep, half kissing and snuggling. He was so respectful and kind and kept saying the sweetest things. (Those of you who know this story already stop snickering and/or throwing up kthanks.) I left the apartment at about 6 AM and drove home, if you can call it that. I sort of floated home. I’d never met anyone like this guy. He was attractive, sweet, hilarious, complimentary, he had opened all my doors the evening before . . . the list of what I already knew I loved about him went on and on. And on.

I was finally over Sam and I was convinced I had just met my future husband. I woke my Mom up the second I got home and climbed in bed with her and we giggled and talked about this amazing new guy in my life, both relieved that the dark, lonely cloud that had been hanging over my head was gone.

The very next night, he decided he had to see me and drove down in a blizzard (he lived about 45 minutes north of my hometown) to take me out on our first “alone” date. We saw Monster’s Inc. – HIS choice! I love Disney movies and was dying to see it and HE chose it. This guy seemed to become more perfect every second I spent with him. After the movie, we went to my house and he sat and talked with my whole family for almost two hours. He talked to my brothers about basketball and football, with my Mom about her work, to my Step-dad about his life . . . it was this awesome, easy, comfortable evening. He seemed to fit right in. He wasn’t shy about being affectionate with me, he pulled me down on his lap and rubbed my back and played with my hair the whole time. I really though I’d died and gone to heaven. He was hot and sweet and perfect AND got along with my family?!?!

From that day on, Richard and I talked every day – usually three or four times a day. If I ever couldn’t answer my phone, he’d leave a funny message, singing a goofy Christmas song or the Cougar Fight Song or something hilarious like that. I saved some of those messages for months because they were so funny. We talked so much about our lives and families and our goals for the future. Everything seemed to come easily for the two of us. Despite having almost nothing in common, socially, we never ran out of things to talk and laugh about.

We saw each other once again that week, this time up at his house, and we had a really deep discussion about where and how we wanted our new relationship to go. We discussed in depth how neither one of us wanted the relationship to be physically based, so we agreed to try to not kiss anymore, just to make sure that we were being level-headed about it. He told me he had been trying to become active in our church again, after a long time of not going to church at all, and that he didn’t want to mess that up, and that he also really, really liked me and wanted to be respectful, something he shared he’d had trouble with in the past. I was floored. He seemed exactly the opposite of what I had thought he was and, despite the newness of our relationship, I was DONE. I was madly in love with him.

On Thanksgiving night, which was five days after we had met, Richard called me very late. He sounded really upset and . . . different. He didn’t sound like himself. He was very quiet and serious and there were several long, awkward pauses in our conversation, which was something that had never happened before. I didn’t want to pry, but finally I said “Richard, what is wrong with you? Are you ok? You seem . . . different and it’s freaking me out.”

Another long pause ensued and finally he answered quietly, “Kate, there’s something I have to tell you and I don’t think you’re going to like it. In fact, I don’t blame you one bit if you hate me and never want to see me again.”

Soap Opera Sunday: The Continuation of the Rivalrous Date

Welcome (back) to Soap Opera Sunday! I’m so excited to be hosting this week, since it’s been FOREVER since I did that! For those of you who have no idea what Soap Opera Sunday is, you can check out the information and rules here. Also, any of you who are a little shy, remember that we have an Anonymous Soap Opera Blog that will allow you to tell any stories you like without having to attach your name or blog with the story! If you’re participating this week, leave your name and the permalink to your completed Soap Opera in the Mr. Linky and then please leave a comment as well! Love it, love you.

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So, last week I left you just at the moment I met Richard. Shall we continue?

As I mentioned, when he turned around, he literally took my breath away. He looked like the man of my dreams . . . you know, that imaginary guy you draw a picture of in your head that you’re pretty sure doesn’t exist? He had sparkly brown eyes, curly dark hair, a bit of scruff on his face, two deep dimples and the most amazing smile. Luckily, I was able to gain my composure, otherwise I might have started drooling or something equally embarrassing. We exchanged names and gave each other a quick hug, but there wasn’t a lot of time for pleasantries because the game was well underway and at that moment, BYU was loosing badly.

I mentioned Richard was all in red, the color of the University of Utah. I also mentioned that Adrienne had told me Richard was a little wired that evening, which he was. Add together the facts that his team, the away team, were winning, his hyperness and his attire . . . and pretty much every BYU fan in the stadium hated him. He was a typically loud, hilarious, supportive fan, just in the wrong stadium. It was hilarious. The old man sitting behinds us kept tapping me on the shoulder and asking me if I could find a way to make my date shut up. I came up with a few creative ways, one which included shoving his mouth full of Twizzlers, another involving my beanie, but truly, he wasn’t to be stopped, and I was loving it.

We were immediately comfortable with each other, mocking the other person for supporting the wrong team, seeing who could yell the loudest and laughing hysterically the whole time. It was, without a doubt, the most fun date I’d ever been on in my life.

BYU pulled of a bit of a miracle in the fourth quarter and won the game, temporarily silencing my obnoxious date, but the night was far from over. Kyle (Adrienne’s husband), Adrienne, Richard and I decided to brave the game traffic and head to the Olive Garden for dinner (mostly because it was close). The hilarity continued at dinner. Every couple of minutes Richard would run to the front and grab me a button or a mint from the hostess and with a flourish, present me with my “gift.” He made sure I knew I could have WHATEVER I wanted on the menu and made sure to mention exactly what I should get so that he could have some.

After dinner we headed back to Kyle and Adrienne’s apartment to watch a movie. I remember we watched Head Over Heels with Freddy Prinze, Jr. and Monica Potter and we all thought it was SO FUNNY. I think it’s because we were already insanely wired, but I remember watching a particularly foul bathroom scene (those of you who’ve seen it know what I’m talking about, yes?) like TEN TIMES and we were crying we were laughing so hard.

Somewhere during the movie Richard reached over and grabbed my hand and I got chills through my whole body. I really couldn’t believe that he was interested in me . . . that someone who looked the way he did was interested in ME. He was that guy who I was sure got almost any girl he wanted and he was looking at ME? I was sort of in shock.

At about 2 AM, Kyle and Adrienne decided they were “very tired” and went to bed. Richard and I sat and talked for about an hour . . . we were snuggled together talking mostly about our family’s when out of the blue (I was in the middle of a sentence!), he put his finger on my lips then cupped my face in his hands and gently kissed me.