“Jen, This is my girlfriend, Stephanie….Amy…..Nicole…..Sara”
One after another I would meet the parade of bright, young women temporarily taking hold of his heart.
Typically a mousey petite with short hair and glasses, they were generally friendly, (or as friendly as they could be when being informally interviewed by their boyfriend’s close (female) friend), and always a little nervous, though I could never figure out if they were nervous about meeting new people in general, or just nervous about meeting me. Yet even though I was a pro at screening and befriending his new loves, as well as being versed in initiating conversations by making them laugh and peppering a kinship by taking her side when she playfully brings up a difference between herself and S*, I also knew that I had just as much riding on these meetings as they did, because even though S* and I had real history, there was no way I could compete with the potential love of his life. It was just as important , if not more so, for them to like me than I them if I wanted to continue having him in my life. I tried, they tried and I’m sure I would have been friends with most of them had it worked out, but it never did. “You’re not meeting the right people, S*. You need to be dating someone different,” I’d say at the next inevitable catch-up session with him and his broken heart sitting across from me.
We had years of this until one night, tucked away in a dark corner of a trendy pub, S* introduced me to the girl that I thought he was going to marry. Sweet and funny, coupled with the charism that I always felt the others to be lacking, I quickly took a liking to her and how they were together. Bright eyed and bushy tailed with a sun-kissed look only found among the newly in love, I truly felt that they had something special, so it was of no surprise that she moved from one town to the next to be with him. It seemed he found the person he was supposed to be with.
“If she’s not the girl for me, I don’t know who is,” He said.
…To Be Continued…