The Demise of a Fairy Tale
I had never seen such a handsome face in real life. Not only was his face out of a Giorgio Armani ad, but his body was perfect. His muscles rippled under his T-shirts; the light fabric laying softly over his angel wings. One day fate dealt me a lucky hand-we were both in the break room with no one else around.
“Hey, what ethnicity are you?” I asked.
“Mexican,” He responded in a confused tone. “Why?”
“Because you are beautiful! Your dark skin, your complexion, you’re just beautiful,” came my hurried reply. “I mean handsome,” I corrected, worried he may take offense to the feminine term.
“No beautiful works for me,” he grinned.
I had never before in my life talked to a stranger that way. The butterflies, who congregated in my stomach after the interaction, left no room for embarrassment .
It was not long before he asked for my number. I suppose the male ego can’t really resist a girl who gushes over him and tells him how beautiful he is. I had never been so excited for a first date in my life. I spent plenty of time prepping and primping, trying to make sure that my beauty would be equal to his. The date was everything I hoped it would be. He was incredibly handsome and smelled divine. He was cute, despite having spoken English since he was a child he still made mistakes with the language. He was a perfect gentleman, opened every door. He was protective, stepping between me and sketchy looking man on the way inside one of the destinations on the date. He had the whole date planned-a relief when one has become accustomed to men picking her up for dates and asking what she wanted to do. I was intrigued by him right away. He was so very different than me. He had been born in Mexico and moved to the states when he was four. He was an avid soccer player, and from what I could tell (from stalking the videos of him playing on facebook) quite good. He came from a completely different culture and language than me. There were small things that caught my attention. His parents were divorced. He still lived with his mother, and it appeared she depended on him for everything. He was not attending school and had no specific plans for his schooling. However, I brushed these aside.
We met at the end of August. A few weeks later we were going steady and not long after that he told me that he loved me. I was in a whirlwind of adoration for this man and infatuated with being in love for the first time. He cared for me so tenderly and sweetly. When we were together he devoted himself to me and my needs. We would sit and talk for hours, sharing our deepest thoughts. We would laugh and play together. After only a few short months we began to wonder what marriage to each other would be like.
The red flags that had caught my attention on our first date and at the beginning of our courtship were constantly looming over me. Instead of not being serious enough to deserve attention or smoothing themselves out as I had hoped, the problems became exacerbated as our relationship progressed. He struggled between wanting to please me and maintaining his loyalty to his mother. As the only son, he recognized that his mother had come to rely on him too heavily and had cajoled him into filling not only the role of son but that of husband as well. He was tied to her apron strings in an unhealthy way. Having come from a family where neither parent received schooling past high school, his education was of little importance to him. He had a good job which could lead to a career and which left him plenty of time to pursue his passion for soccer. This passion was not one that persuaded him to try to play collegiate or move to professional, but one that did take up plenty of time and money as he played in small clubs around the area. He also knew that the things I was asking of him, moving out on his own, obtaining an education, deciding his goals with soccer, were good and healthy expectations. He would tell me how these were the things he wanted as well. These words from him were enough to calm my stresses for a little while each time. I constantly tried to convince myself that his words were true, despite the fact that his actions proved otherwise.
“Hey, I am ready for you to pick me up,” I said happily as I admired my newly manicured nails. He had dropped me off and told me he would pick me up when I was finished.
“Hey, actually I am still with my family and it looks like it will be a while. We are about to go and have dinner.”
Crestfallen and confused I said, “Okay, so when will I see you tonight?” It was the night before my birthday and we had planned a dinner date.
“I don’t really know how long this will take so maybe I can just call you later.”
I began my walk home from the nail salon. Once home I waited for the call. It never came. Later that night my phone buzzed. I picked it up to see a text from him. I hadn’t finished reading about how he was still with family and would just see me the following day before I chucked the phone across the room in frustration. It was clear that his loyalty to his family far surpassed any loyalty he had to me. I was never welcome at these activities and as much as it pained me to admit it, I knew that a wedding gown and the exchanging of rings would not change that. Even though I knew that I was second to his mother and his sisters and would probably always be, I naively gave him the benefit of the doubt. How could a man so breathtakingly handsome, so unfailingly chivalrous and who told me he loved me, not keep his word?
When Christmas came we had been dating for four months. We were in innocent and ignorant love. I foolishly saw him as the man I thought I knew he could become. He said the things he knew I wanted to hear in a desperate attempt to keep me by his side, but would do the exact opposite in order to maintain his relationship with is mother and keep her content. I was flying home to California for Christmas. I was disappointed that I would have to fly back to Utah on Christmas day due to work commitments but excited when he assured that he would be at the airport to pick me up. As I boarded the plane, I received a text from him wondering if I could ride the train back and reassuring me that he would be at the train station in Provo to pick me up. Upon my arrival in the hustle of bustle of Salt Lake International Airport I realized that the train was not running due to the national holiday. After further inquiry I discovered that there was no public transportation and that I would have to wait three hours for the next shuttle to depart to Provo.
“Hey, are you back?!” he asked excitedly when he answered the phone.
“The train does not run today because it is Christmas,” I replied. There was a moment of silence on the other line.
“Oh… Well, can you find another way?” he inquired.
“Not really,” I said in frustration as I explained the predicament and the three hours I would have to wait before any shuttles would be leaving.
“Oh, well, take the shuttle and I will come see you when you get home.”
Hearing my frustration and tears on the other end he began to explain how he was with family and they were all about to go see a movie for which they already had tickets. I barely heard or understood him as I stood in the crowded airport, tears of disappointment running down my face. I hung up the phone, went into a bathroom stall, and sobbed uncontrollably.
The relationship lasted only three more days. I am embarrassed to say that it was not I who broke up with him. It took me a long time to come to the realization that he was not the fairytale I had built up in my mind; love does not conquer all.
The doorbell rings, I open to see the man I am currently dating on the doorstep. In his hand is a lovely bouquet of flowers, despite the absence of a special occasion. He is tall, built like a bear, and strong. While he doesn’t turn heads or attract second glances the way my last boyfriend did, he is dependable, a friend to everyone he meets and always has people laughing with his quick wit and humor.
“You look absolutely beautiful!” he exclaims.
“Thank you,” I respond bashfully.
As he puts his phone away for the night he says, “Tonight I am with you, and there is no where else I would rather be.”
