Knowing how much he was hurting, I threw caution to the wind and told him I loved him. But he was still in love with the other woman. He told me I should go out with his greasy-haired friend with zits. I said I wasn’t interested. He said, “If you love me, you’ll do this favor for me.” I knew that the greasy-haired guy would kiss Alan’s feet if he was able to get me to go out with him. That was the reason I did it. So I got a free meal. Nothing happened. The guy was so happy and nervous; I felt sorry for him.
Alan took off to join the Air Force. Since my best friend Alan was gone, I had no reason to stay in California. I packed up all my belongings into my Toyota and drove to Texas, where my best friend Christie lived. Plus, the cute jerk boyfriend (from when I was in England) was there (I still liked him), and the sweet British guy who loved me was there. So I did my student teaching, and then I taught for two years at a Christian school. I needed two years of teaching experience in order to teach in England, which is where I wanted to live the rest of my life.
The jerk boyfriend went out with someone else, so that was over. I tried to brainwash myself to love the British guy, who is now a pastor in England. I did love him, after all. We were good friends. I thought long and hard about it. I wanted to be in love with him. Besides, if I married a British guy, I could spend the rest of my life in England.
Meanwhile I was getting phone calls all the time from Alan, whose phone bill must have been through the roof, considering that he was now stationed on an Air Force base in… of all places… England! We would talk for hours about everything under the sun.
I applied to all seven American schools in England, and one of them was interested in hiring me. So I bought a plane ticket to England. Oh, but before I left, I made a chart of pros and cons, comparing Alan to the British guy (as potential husband material). I decided to pursue the British guy, mostly because I wanted to live in England. Plus, I knew he loved me and I didn’t know where Alan stood.
So I had my interview (and later got the job), and I spent the rest of the month showing Alan around my favorite places in England. I saw the British guy, and I was primping and putting on perfume and asking Alan if I looked good, because I wanted to make sure the British guy was in love with me. I was stressed out. Later on when I was alone with Alan, I felt so much more relaxed. I always felt like I was at home with Alan, like I didn’t have to do anything. I could just sit there and do nothing, and it was comfortable. He started hugging me sometimes, and holding my hand.
One night while standing on a street in England, Alan was hugging me very intensely. I said, “I love you,” and there was silence. I was angry and called him a jerk and ran away. No, wait. He was driving, so I said, “Take me to Sally’s house.” We drove in silence. I said that either we were friends, and never touch me at all (no hugs, no holding hands), or he could be my boyfriend. One or the other. I didn’t even care. “Just make up your mind,” I said.
The next day he decided to be my boyfriend. Our first kiss was spectacular. That was it. There was no going back. After dating for a year, we got engaged. I needed to finish my two-year teaching contract in London, so we were engaged for a year while he lived in Texas. I flew in ten days before the wedding, and then we lived happily ever after.Tweet