The Many Loves of Cyndilu (Apologies to Dobie Gillis)

For you young bucks who don't know about The Many Loves of Dobie Gillis....Google it.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and love is in the air. Which got me to thinking about love. Falling in love, being in love, unrequited love, falling out of love, puppy love, hot monkey love....all kinds of love.

The first time I fell in love I was about 4 years old, and the man of my dreams was the little boy next door. I fell out of love with him when some older kids (I think my brother was in this group) convinced him to taste dog poop behind the bush in the front yard. I could never love a man who was so easily swayed by peer pressure. Or one whose breath smelled like poop.

In the second grade I fell in love with Martin M. He was the most handsome 7 year old I'd ever seen. Perfectly straight white teeth, perfectly tanned skin, not a hair out of place. I remember walking around one day on the playground, lost in dreams of him someday returning my love, when I tripped and fell...skinning both knees, both elbows and busting my lip. Then I learned that he was in love with Joy and would never be mine. Love hurts, in more ways than one.

In the fourth grade I fell in love with Steve. He gave me a silver disc, engraved with his name, to wear on a chain around my neck. We were officially going steady! Our affair consisted of glances in the hallway as we lined up for lunch, and clandestine meetings on the playground, where we'd exchange a quick hand hold, away from the prying, teasing eye of his best friend Martin (alas, not Martin M). I wore that disc for two years.....and then....

Middle school came along...Steve and I grew apart...and his best friend Martin and I fell in love. I had my first real date with Martin, in the 7th grade. He had a paper route for the Fort Worth Press, and they were having a special showing of the movie My Side of the Mountain for their paperboys. He asked me to go! I remember I wore a yellow skirt and a white ruffled blouse and carried a white plastic 'straw' purse, which I clutched tightly in my lap. Martin put his arm around my shoulder (!) and nervously started to flick a little piece of plastic straw. Unbeknownst to him, every time he flicked that straw, his finger also flicked my budding adolescent breast. I was too embarrassed to make him stop. I also got my first kiss from Martin. He had ridden his bike to my house, and when he left, I was riding half-way home with him. As I stopped and turned to go back home, he came riding up behind me, grabbed my neck and pulled me toward him, and laid one on me, right on the lips. Then took off like he'd been stung. I don't remember why Martin and I broke up. He was killed in a freak accident when we were in high school. Damn shame.

8th grade brought a whole different kind of boyfriend. CARS. I went to an ice cream social with my friend Mary and met another Steve. We never really went out on a date, because I told my mother he was 17 when he was actually 21 and a college sophomore. I was devastated when I called his apartment one day and he told me the girl who answered was his sister. He didn't have a sister. This was the first boy who made me cry. I remember sitting on my bed, bawling my eyes out, after he had come to pick up his records and things that I had, and my mother asked me why I was crying. I told her Steve and I had broken up, and she slapped my face for letting a boy  make me cry.

9th grade...Life was different now...the boys were different...they had cars and I could go out in them. Gary took me parking after downing 2 tacos from Jack in the Box and chewing a pack of Adams cherry gum. Benny bought me a double mum and took me to homecoming. Doug took me to the movies in a VW with a hole in the floor that made my feet freeze.

Then I met Jim. And fell in love. Real love. Deep love. Love that continued through 30 years of marriage and 2 children. Love that saw good times and bad times, sickness and health, love that forgave him as he suffered bout after bout of WDS (see previous post). Even though he hurt me beyond what I thought I could endure, I will always have love for him, because of our life we spent together and because of the children we share.

During the times that he was relapsing with WDS (see previous post) there were a few times that I thought I was in love, but they turned out to be just the hot monkey variety mentioned above. (Hey, a girl's got needs ya know...)

And now I'm in love again, for what I hope is the last time. My Dave. When I met him he was just words on a screen...just a guy who liked cats. But the more we talked, the closer we got. He became my friend, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on as my marriage crumbled around me. We never expected to be more than just friends on the internet. But to our surprise, we met, and we fell in love. I have no doubt that this is the man I'll spend the rest of my life with. We've been together for 9 years now and we still haven't run out of things to talk about. Things are tough sometimes, as age and health issues start to creep up on us, but we are so comfortable with each other, we can face anything that comes.

I hope all my readers will take a minute to think about all the times you've been in love and to let the one you love now, know just how you feel. Whatever kind of love you're in, or out of...I wish you a Happy Valentines' Day.