The Lady and a boy named Dex: Enter Mr. Slipshod and a case of a dreaded disease.

Once upon a time, The Lady fell in love. Honest to goodness love. This is the story of her journey in and out of it and back into it again.
I would love nothing more than to pretend that everything happened according to plan. That Dex and I broke up, but remained faithful friends, and that I've been writing to him his whole mission and now he'll be home in a limited number of scanty weeks, and we'll get married and all will be as it always should have been. That all of these endlessly dramatic posts are the result of a love story that ends happily ever after. But like I said, regret became my nature. Regret is a nasty and beastly thing. It can come in many different forms, but of all these, regret accompanied by guilt is by far the most brutish. It sucks you dry and leaves you feeling raw and bare. For some it becomes debilitating. Debilitating because we are ashamed of our lack of character, our weakness and timidity. We spend months and sometimes years emotionally and spiritually pummeling ourselves for not doing what we ought. What we did (or did not do) may be regrettable, but the remorse is often worse. It caused me to doubt myself, to become reclusive and feeble. If anything, this is the one thing that led to my "two-year hiatus" from men. Recalling these moments even now, even after repentance and forgiveness, is sickening to me.

Three days. I waited three days after Dex and I broke up before I betrayed him in the worst way. He asked me not to do anything that we would regret, and I knew precisely what he had meant.

While I was dating Dex, Mr. Slipshod was a friend. Not even that perhaps. A mere friendly acquaintance. Before Christmas, Mr. Slipshod admitted that he wanted to date me, that all semester he had been waiting to date me (information I did not keep secret from Dex). At that moment I had enough gumption to refuse and declare my happiness with being in a relationship with Dex. My determination was that of Louisa Musgrove. However, my determination wavered when Dex and I separated. I suddenly slipped into reckless abandon, no longer fuller aware of my own actions as though I was not present in my own body. Soulless, grasping, and lost. I went searching for trouble. In my semi-consciousness I resolved to determine the validity of my love for Dex. If I could fall in love with someone just as easily as I did him, then it was not love at all for "Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds" (Shakespeare's Sonnet 116).

I knew that Mr. Slipshod would be at a particular party on a particular night and if I were to show up looking particularly vulnerable but particularly attractive, I would be in a relationship by the end of the night. The plan was flawless, as was my execution. I will spare you the gory details--very gory indeed--and sum up: Mr. Slipshod asked me to officially be his girlfriend the next day. When he asked me, I had the presence of mind to refuse due to my recent breakup with Dex, temporarily gaining back some common sense. But Mr. Slipshod was not to be deterred. He said he understood, but planted one on me anyways. Resistance seemed to me futile, so I gave in. I just let things happen to me. Assuming any control over my own life became unimportant.

The "relationship" with Mr. Slipshod was the worst of my life. Not only was I still in love with Dex, but Mr. Slipshod was just as his name infers: shoddy. He was bi-polar. Severely, severely bi-polar. One moment he would be telling me of his dreams of me as his wife (spare me!), and the next he would completely ignore me. He was egotistical and depressed. He was childish. His breath tasted of jalapeno poppers. He was beyond sketchy. There were good things about Mr. Slipshod, but my memory cannot recall them. I might feel worse about using him in the way  that I did if he had not been using me (as well as several other girls) in the same manner. It was a mutually parasitic affair and I am so glad to be rid of it. It took me much too long to come to my senses and leave Mr. Slipshod behind, but I eventually did. It was a huge relief to be rid of him, but I still had the damage with which to cope.

 Dex was aware of what I was doing. I had told him myself. I had even gone so far as to beg for his help to rescue me from the situation I had taken upon myself. Where once I had been determined, I was now simply desperate. I was a pathetic wretch of a girl. I loathed myself so much more than I ever had. Things took a turn for the worse when I became ill. I was harassed by constant headaches (which were rare for me), chills, fever, and a multitude of other ailments. I had to stop to rest on my way from the living room to the kitchen. The lymph nodes all over my body were swollen. I couldn't eat. All I did was sleep. I might as well admit it because it isn't hard to guess, but I contracted a dreaded disease: mononucleosis. The kissing disease. A fact which still makes me laugh, but it was an appropriate fate for a coquette such as myself. Despite my pathetic state, the disease did win me a small amount of pity from Dex. That was the only time that he talked to me for several months. He wanted to make sure that I was okay, that I was taking care of myself, and that I knew that he still loved me and was praying for me. I wanted to die. I was ashamed of everything. I had hurt someone I loved without cause. He did not deserve it, but he offered me forgiveness even though I was much less deserving.

My regret and his forgiveness were not enough to reunite us. Dex and I were now worse than strangers.

Con Amor,
The Lady



"She had used him ill; deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shewn a feebleness of character in doing so, which his own decided, confident temper could not endure. She had given him up to oblige others. It had been the effect of over-persuasion. It had been weakness and timidity." -Persuasion