Family Stories - Don

Family Stories

Don

   Strictly speaking, this isn't a family story, but it did take place during my UN years.  And it is about me.

   To be honest, I was not much for dating in my high school years.  I tried to date a guy my freshman year, but my parents (particularly my dad) were not ready for me to date yet and made it very difficult.  So I didn't really try all that hard.  And my self esteem issues were pretty mammoth.  One of the amazing things about high school reunions is finding out how many guys would have dated me if I had given any indication I was interested.  I had friends who were guys, but that was it.  In retrospect, I had good taste in guys even then.  My male friends were top notch.

   When I started and then moved out, it was a chance for me to step away from my parents (and school, etc.) restrictions.  I stopped wearing dresses.  Jeans and a comfortable shirt became my attire of choice - and still is.  I was free to let loose my inner "hippie."  And since I was more liberated looking, I started thinking about dating again.

   Looking back at the time line, I realize now how much of my friendship/romance with Don was more than chance.  I knew Don from high school.  He was a year ahead of me.  We both worked for the high school newspaper.  He was smart, funny, and not afraid to take risks for causes he believed in.  We were friends.  After graduation he went up to UC Santa Cruz.

   I was talking to Betty at our UN apartment one day and for some reason I was telling her about Don.  Probably a conversation about who would I like to date.  My response was probably, "Someone like Don."  She encouraged me to contact him.  In a moment of bravery I looked up the phone number of what I thought was his family home.  He probably wasn't there, but I could leave a message.  To my surprise, he was home on spring break.

   The next night Don came over to the UN.  He was pleasantly surprised to find me living in such an unorthodox environment.  I was living the life he could only live when he was at school.  So we started dating.  We both understood that it was not a real dating relationship.  Don's real life was at school.  I was his safety valve, his escape from his rigid family.   I understood where he was coming from and was ok with it.  Don was my first real, adult relationship.  But we were friends first.  It was a friends with benefits relationship, with an emphasis on the friends part.

   While he was finishing his semester we wrote back and forth, making some plans for the summer.  Nothing mushy.  We saw a lot of each other until August when my mom paid for me to visit my brother in Alabama for a month.  That's another story.  While we had some sexual adventures, that wasn't always available for us.  I didn't drive yet, so he'd have to pick me up.  

   Lots of talking - about everything from politics to our individual plans for the future.  Don was excited because he had qualified for a special program.  He was an English major.  I think his family planned for him to become a teacher.  They certainly didn't plan for him to go after any advanced degrees.  But Don had been offered a special writing program that would extend his college experience by at least a year.  Don was such a good writer that I knew he would go for the writing program.  His concern was how his parents would take the news.  Would they cut him off financially?  If so, how was he going to finance college and himself?

   I remember he took me to the Hollywood Bowl one night.  We saw Poco and the Jefferson Airplane, both bands we liked.  Poco was rising in popularity and the crowd didn't want them to have such a short set.  When the Airplane finally started playing it was clear that Grace Slick was angry.  In retrospect probably high/drunk as well.  The Airplane did not put on a particularly good show.  I was glad to have seen them, but the memory of Grace's anger is what remains.

   In late July I flew to Huntsville, Alabama to visit my brother.  Don and I wrote.  He finally found the courage to tell his parents about the writing honor.  The grudgingly agreed to finance the extra year.  He was spending a lot of time working at the job his parents had arranged.  Someone in the family worked for the railroads, so Don worked, when he was home at the local rail yard.  It was some manual labor, but mostly guard and paperwork.  He didn't like it at all, but the money was good.

  Towards the end of the trip to Alabama I met someone and fell in love.  Mostly I fell in love with love.  He was handsome and charming and thought  I was exotic and beautiful.  I believed his lies. Silly me.  But then, he believed his own stories.  I honestly thought my Alabama man would come to Los Angeles to see me.

   I did come back to Southern California. I had promised my roommates.  Betty had moved out by then.  While I was gone things had changed with Henry's family and he and Roya were now officially engaged.  They had gone for a few weeks to visit her family in Iran as well.  Neither family felt our living situation was appropriate, so the 4 of us moved to a small house in my home town while I was gone.  I had my own small (really, really small) bedroom, so I was happy.  My brother was not happy I was leaving.  He wanted to use my presence to force the Marine Corps to let them move off base.  Sorry!

   Don and I had some time together before he left to go back to school, but things were different between us.  I was "in love" with someone else.  His mom had found one of my letters and now I was on the forbidden list.  I still don't know why.  So we left on very uncertain terms.  I was not kind to Don.

   Sometime before Christmas (probably about the time Roya and Henry got married) Don sent me a letter telling me that he had been dating someone from school and it had gotten serious.  It was our farewell letter.  I wished him well and never heard from him again.

   Over the years I've thought of Don.  He really was the best first real boyfriend I could have had.  In many ways he set the standard for me.  My first "love" didn't work out, of course and he was also my first heartbreak.  I regret that things ended so poorly between Don and I.  I did look for Don after my divorce.  I always wondered what his life was like.  I hoped it was happy.  And I wanted to apologize.  Not to be.  I found out recently via my high school facebook page that he died several years ago.  RIP my friend.  I hope your adult life was as good as the promise of it should be.  I hope you were happy.  I will continue to miss you.