I'm not even sure how the subject came up, but Derek mentioned picking me up at the airport after my accident, and I told him something he said he didn't think I'd ever told him. I feel positive I had, but maybe I should write all of this in here, just so it's concrete and also because I love talking about myself.
A pretty important thing to mention here, and it comes into play a couple of times in both this story, and like, a bajillion more times in the entirety of my relationship with Derek: I REALLY credit Dan with being where I am today. Not like, as a person or anything, but in my socially sanctioned marital relationship, he is 100% responsible for that. Well, 100% responsible for the parts outside of circumstance (thank you, Ologies episode on the science of intimacy!!). There are three big credit dings Dan gets for my relationship with Derek: breaking up with me (ish? Were we even in a relationship? What even was that?); being an aloof prick after my accident (while yes, I was notably still hung up on Dan and holding a candle for things to work out with him, I was doing my best to just be his friend, as I assumed he was, as well, but I mean...I felt very snubbed by his nonchalance regarding my BRUSH WITH DEATH/s); and telling me of course he loved me.
If Dan hadn't broken up with me, I...hold on...because I don't think he DID actually break up with me. I am not sure I've ever REALLY figured this out. When Dan left Colorado, he made it clear that long-distance shit just didn't work, but he still talked to me like we were a thing, and then when I told him a month later that I didn't want to know him or talk to him anymore because reasons, that felt like a more concrete break up, and that may have been why I did it, but then he had his dippy moment of drunkenly telling me to stay in Michigan with him forever and then NEVER MENTIONING IT AGAIN and then breaking my heart all over again, but I hung on because that's what I did, and then he called me a couple of weeks after that to tell me that he hadn't been a very good person to me and I let him fucking have it and not get a word in edgewise because hi, have we met? And did that count as a break up? I don't know if any of it did. I heard Dan call me his girlfriend twice: once after he came home from Afghanistan, and once off-handedly when I was in Michigan, but I could tell by the look on his face that he answered "yes" when someone asked if I was his girlfriend more because it was easier than explaining the truth to someone who probably didn't care very much. I really remember that, too. At that stupid party I went to with him and felt so awkward at, but I also remember these three dudes with just the most outrageously fucking foxy bodies, so it wasn't a total loss. I don't think we ever had a real relationship, and I think that's more Dan's fault than mine, I just enabled his bad behavior but I've strayed from the point. Let's say it this way instead: if Dan and I hadn't stopped doing whatever the fuck it was we (read: I) were doing, I wouldn't have proceeded to go on the world's most HILARIOUS crusade for all the dicks I could gobble, and I wouldn't have met Derek.
The dick gobbling crusade was marvelously successful. I feel fairly confident that I fucked my way through at least 75% of the 25-30 male age group in Colorado Springs, and at least 10% of Denver's, and I did it with aplomb. The highlight of all of this was...wait for it....the first one night stand I had after Dan left. I had been fucking this guy Brian pretty regularly since before Dan left, because I was just making sure I had options available and I am not a bad person for that, but Brian was someone I was comfortable-ish with, it didn't feel like an official end to something with Dan like a one night stand did. I had a one night stand with this dude who....I mean, seriously, he couldn't have been worse if I had written him myself. His name was Dan, he had the same position the Dan had held in army, he had so much in common with Dan, BUT he was WAY fucking hotter, and way more sexually aggressive. I slept with him, he asked me to spend the night with him, I declined and left immediately and I just BAWLED on my way home. I cried because he wasn't Dan, I cried because I knew everything was really over, and I cried because I had let some dude hit me rapid fire in the face with his penis. Twice. Like...have you seen those videos of cats attacking something SUPER fast with their paws? It was like that, but not funny, because it was with a penis, and also because it happened to me and not someone else. I listened to John Secada and Sage Francis's song Bridle in the car on repeat. I listened to Bridle on repeat for hours when I got home, even though it was 2am. I felt emboldened. I got on Facebook and sent a message to Sage Francis about how I was really struggling to cope with my personal life at the moment, and I really loved his music and thought he was supremely talented, and I connected to a lot of his songs, but Bridle was my shit at the moment...AND HE FUCKING WROTE BACK. He was so fucking nice and supportive and gracious. I remember him ending his message with "chin up, Gal Galileo. You won't stay down for long, just look for that silver lining."
The parade of mediocrity through Boner Town, where I was the mayor, really started to drag on my nerves. After thirty or so one night stands, it all starts to blend at the edges. Like a wax painting made of dicks and bad conversation. I remember telling Allen that I was unhappy, and I was lonely, but I felt stupid admitting I was lonely because I had spent years trying to be unattached, and all of that bullshit had landed me in a whole heap of crushed feelings.
Allen called me a faggot. True story, direct quote.
I ran for President of Boner Country, and won unopposed, dated The Swede for a hot minute, dated some other dude whose name escapes me, fucked my friend Brian and ruined that friendship because the sex was awkward and I hadn't wanted to sleep with him I was just bored and anxious to feel SOMETHING, started a really fucking weird fling with my friend Ian against my better judgment because I am a trash monster and also I was bored and I laughed so fully at him asking me to text him a picture of my asshole that like...duh, of course we fucked sometimes. Met Justin, felt my feelings stir just the slightest bit, and then met up with Derek. That's where Derek makes his grand entrance, and his timing was just so fucking bad.
I was still farting around with Dan whilst slip sliding on every crotch I could wiggle myself at, lying through my god damn teeth about my wanton ways to Dan because duh, no dude wants to change his mind about a girl who's pining for him but also fucking her way through the phone book just because she can. That was never in any love story I'd seen, and as they are the great documentaries of our time, I played coy and made myself so god damn available that looking back on it hurts my feelings. My ovaries tense up and my teeth clench because how god damn desperate and sad of me, but that's who I was after Dan. I was desperate and fucking sad. In every way a person can be sad. Pathetic and always on the verge of tears. So when Derek came along, and he was so plucky and upbeat and kind to me and upfront with me and wore his situation on his sleeve, I was so turned off. YUCK, ammiright? Where's the chase? If I don't go into a relationship knowing I'll need therapy for years when I get out of it, there's just no point.
Derek offered to take me on a trip to Durango, driving out to Texas for the first sunrise on the road, then heading to Durango, going to Silverton, going to Mesa Verde, all to take photos and enjoy each other's company, all on his dime. I said I'd go, but very begrudgingly, and the day before we were supposed to leave, I was talking to Allen and lamenting having to go on this trip and ugh, I just didn't wanna go did I have to go? Derek wasn't Dan, wah wah wah, and Allen got so fucking irritated with me, and he was like, "Jesus fucking christ, Drea, you have dated every asshole and how has that been for you? I'd like to think I am the best guy you've dated, but even I suck and was horrible for you. How about you go after someone who just fucking likes you, dude? Don't be a fucking moron, go on the god damn trip."
I'm paraphrasing, but he was right. So I went, and I lied about who I was with and what I was doing to Dan, because I am just the fucking worst and when I said I was hung up, I fucking meant it. Like, I meant it the most. And for the record, I don't even understand why. Dan was kinda garbage. And not in that I'm So Bitter kind of way, I mean he was seriously trash adjacent, like a raccoon but not even close to as adorable or lovable, and I do NOT want to feed him grapes. I don't even want to feed him cat food, I kinda hope he does nothing but suck eggs for the rest of his life because Dan aint shit. He had...has, I'm sure...a lot of qualities that I find exceptionally attractive in men. He had a penis, that's a plus, he was smart, he was cocky but I think he had a vastly over inflated sense of self worth, and he had a high sex drive that matched mine, except fucking him was a boring chore. You guys, I fucking obsessed over that man for YEARS, what the actual fuck. I never lied to Derek about being torqued in the head over Dan. In fact, I told Derek that I couldn't give him what he wanted because I was just wasting away over some tall, skinny fucktwat living in Michigan that gave approximately a quarter of a fuck about me when it was convenient and ignored my existence when it wasn't. I told Derek to date other people. When he asked me about exclusivity, I remember having a fucking panic attack while I was driving back home from Stevie's and texting him back as fast as I could NO NO NO, SLOW YOUR FUCKING ROLL. I kept shit open, not because I didn't like Derek, I did. That was the worst part. I really liked Derek. A LOT. Derek was hot as fuck (and still is. My husband is forty fucking two and looks like a god damn 30 year old, and it is both a turn on and also deeply upsetting that I look older than a man who is almost a decade my senior), smart, really funny, fun, thoughtful, adventurous, and not at all embarrassed to be seen with me, unlike other dweeby cunts that shall be named, Daniel Christian Jacobson, birthday November 27th 1984, last known location Michigan and he is a terrible person that I will forever maintain owes me so many apologies.
There wasn't anything I didn't like about Derek, except for the annoying fact that he wasn't Dan, even though I was angry with Dan. I just wanted Dan to love me back, and I pushed Derek away waiting for that shit. Whether it was intentional or not, Dan kept tossing morsels my way and I kept utilizing Derek's time and energy, lying to Dan about it but telling Derek the truth about it, and playing both ends against the middle, feeling seriously fucking hollow and depressed. I played this ridiculous game for months, and then I got into my accident.
It makes me laugh to say "my accident" because seriously, it was a slow car bump into a wall in a parking garage. I just happened to break my arm at 7 miles per hour, because I am nothing short of freakishly brittle of bone in my left arm.
While I was in the hospital, my mom called everybody she knew to call, like my job, and Allen, and my friends, but she didn't contact Derek, because in her defense, I had literally over 100 phone numbers for dudes in my phone, and she wouldn't have known where to start. It was Allen that told Derek I got into a car accident, I don't even know how he did that, I just know he did. It pushed my travel time back to Colorado back by almost two weeks. I was in the hospital for days and days, had surgery, got molested by a nurse (fun!), got released, and once I got back to my mom's, I jumped onto my laptop and reported my accident to Dan, who gave half a fuck for half an hour, and then that was that, and I was so put out. I was so fucking upset by how very little he cared, and I remember him asking me "were you wearing a seat belt?" and my head went BITCH THIS IS YOUR QUESTION?? I was so angry that his first reaction wasn't WILL YOU BE MY GIRLFRAN 4EVA NOW THAT U HAVE X-CAPED DEATH??!?!?!?!?! And I got it. The second of three clicks clicked and I was just kind of taken aback and I felt very stupid for chasing someone who couldn't even ask the prerequisite " are you ok" even though, duh, I was ok, I was telling him I had been in an accident from the comfort of a laptop. I wasn't critical, but still, pro tip: ask if people are ok. They want you to ask.
I spent the next few days playing Scrabble with Adam, and chatting with Derek, and taking pictures of my extremely fat and swollen hand because it looked like the rear end of a chubby baby and it made me laugh. When it was finally time for me to go home, I didn't want to, because I was in so much pain and going home meant doing things on my own and I threw several tantrums in the airport. That is upsettingly a true story, my mom can attest. I hollered and cried and I had to dose myself on percocets and get walked onto the plane because I was dazed and I was hurting and I didn't want to be there, and under all of that I was sad about Dan, but, and this is important, that was fleeting. I was upset that I had wasted so much time on Dan, and I cried about that for maybe an hour on the flight, and then I cried for all of the time I had wasted pining over someone who was never going to love me instead of spending time with someone I might be able to love openly and without shame, and then I thought about Derek, and I cried because he was the only person in the world I wanted to see. I wanted to see Derek so fucking badly and I wanted to tell him I was so sorry for being such a dummo, and that he was way better than Dan and I was so grateful for his patience, and could he maybe just let me start over because I can be a really good girlfriend. I came out of my percocet and tears stupor about an hour before the flight landed, and then, when I got off of the plane, there was Derek, waiting for me at the gate, and I really do remember all of this, I felt so fucking relieved. Like the biggest weight had been taken off of me. Pretty sure this weepy weeperson cried more than a little when I saw Derek waiting for me. I was wearing this stupid blue cover dress meant for lounging by the pool, but it was all I could put on due to my broken body, I was holding a pillow, I had a pillow in my good hand, and I wished so hard that I looked beautiful in that moment. I looked worse than the picture I am painting. Derek had his arm brace on, he looked so handsome, and I had never in my life been happier to see another human being. Not even Dan when he came back from Afghanistan. I think the only thing in the world that could top my absolute and complete joy and love for seeing Derek when I got off the plane would be if I ever get to see my daughter and give her a hug. Other than that, I feel pretty confident that was the happiest I've ever been seeing someone.
And Derek told me....months ago, when I started this blog...that he had no idea. He had no idea that he was the only person I wanted to see, and I knew it on the plane, and I knew it even more once he was there waiting for me at the gate. I thought I had told him that, but it was a watershed moment for me. Maybe that was when I figured out I loved Derek, I don't quite know, but I know it was important, and I know on that rainy flight home back from Alabama that I wanted to be with Derek more than I wanted my arm to not be broken.
I undid all of the shit I told Derek, in time. I had spent a long time being the Dan to his Drea, except to my credit, I was upfront about it, I never mislead Derek. Maybe I did, I can't say for sure, but I was as honest with him as I could be. As overjoyed as I was after my accident, and as much as I relaxed and relished in being with a man who really tried to meet my emotional needs instead of trample all over them because I was an easy target, I still had a tiny little bit of Dan stuck in my craw. I figured out I loved Derek and told him so (I said I love you first, because I am a modern woman who may not NEED no man, but definitely likes having one and it is ok to admit that), but with that revelation came a renewed sense of confusion over why I wasn't worth Dan loving me. And I wanted to ask him. I spent months trying to pick up the nerve to ask Dan why he didn't love me, but I didn't want to upset the apple cart. I had been plugging along, being friendly with him and being far more casual about it; we were watching some trashy reality dating show, as he was who I did that with, because Derek wasn't interested and neither was Allen, and he made an off-hand comment about how if we had gotten married I would still be his wife, but he said it in a way that had weight. It was an intentional admission, and it was like a busted can of sterno directly into my asshole, so I asked him what the fuck he would say something like that for, because years ago when I had told him if he had given me any indication that he wanted to marry me for real, I would have done it. I was angry. I wasn't sad, though I did cry a bit during the conversation. Dan told me of COURSE he loved me, and he had wanted to marry me, he just didn't know how to say it. He said he still loved me, and I asked him why he didn't do anything about it, and to be honest, I don't remember his answer. Because I didn't really care (though I don't think he really gave me an answer that was an actual answer, just more verbal waffle from America's Favorite Asshole).
I got upset after that conversation with Dan. Real upset. Ugly cry upset. I had waited for years for that validation, it felt like bullshit, and that was my third click. That was the final nail in a coffin comprised of nothing but nails, and after a few hours of stewing, I called Derek and told him we should get married (modern fucking woman, you guys! I am the modernest about my approach to antiquated social rituals!), and he said we could talk about it when he got home, because he was off Christmasing with his daughter, but I said nuts to that, mother fucker, we will discuss this NOW.
And five years later, here I am, married to Derek because Dan was a disregarding prick. Derek also credits Dan with us being married, because he thinks that if I hadn't gone through all of that with Dan, I wouldn't have been able to handle being in a relationship with him. Pretty sure he's right on about that.
As a final note for this, I realize I write about Dan a lot in here. Derek says I talk about him a lot, too. In case it isn't clear, it's not because I miss Dan, or I still love Dan, or I'm still hung up on him. I'm still processing all of whatever it was we had. It's important to me that I suss out what I'm responsible for, so I can forgive myself for how much damage I let him do to me, and so I can forgive myself for how little I loved myself because getting his love meant more, and so I can stop making excuses for Dan, because I've blamed myself for all of it for a long time. All of the damage I'm carrying around from that, and it is a lot because that relationship cracked me open in the worst ways, I placed all of the blame at my feet instead of figuring out where it all rightly went. I got lucky with Chris and Allen, I know where those relationships went wrong, and while I blame Chris 95% for our relationship ending and I blame Allen 50% for our relationship ending, they were easy to figure out. I didn't have to wonder, because they weren't clandestine with their humanity like Dan was. Dan let me fall on the sword, and while I don't resent him, that is a lie. I definitely do. But figuring this kind of thing out is tricky, and I'm still working through it.
I get triggered sometimes because Derek has some of the same tendencies now that Dan had then, and it scares me a lot. He's grown to be cavalier with my feelings more often than I ever thought he would, he blames me for a lot of the problems we have instead of sharing culpability and seeing where I'm coming from, and he doesn't really see that I need more from him even when I ask him for it directly, but he knows I'm not going anywhere. The line gets blurred between Derek and Dan, and it's terrifying. I've thought, in anger, about rage screaming to Derek that he's just like Dan, because that is the highest insult to me. Dan was the worst man I've ever been with, and considering my thoughts on my daughter's father, that is a mighty fucking man to dethrone, but Dan stole that shit with the quickness, and exceptionally easily. I don't know if it hits for Derek like it does for me. I wonder sometimes if it hurts Derek that I still don't have my Dan shit figured out, and I would feel bad if it does, because it isn't about Dan, it's about me, Dan was just there for all of the me shit I'm trying to figure out, which is unfortunate, because I would love to stop thinking about the biggest failure of a decent human being I've ever known. I am dying to shut that book forever, and I've neglected to get a therapist to help me work through it, because I am still trying to work through my daughter, and through my parents, and through the myriad ways I've fucked up my life on my own without adding that into the mix, but maybe it's time, because I still have so many questions, and Dan hasn't spoken to me in years. Maybe he thinks I'm as truly awful as I think he is.
And in fairness, I really, really am.
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