500 Days of Peter? - Catholic Herald

So last night my fiancé and I watched “500 Days of Summer,” an awesome kind-of love story with a realistic but not unkind ending. It was funny, warm-hearted, sad, and very reminiscent of my past relationships.

Can I say that, relationships? I better, because it would be kind of sad to say technically Matt was my first boyfriend. At the age of 23 (wait, 24, because he asked me after the New Year).

So. Divine plan, huh? Destiny, a path. Life is planned out, right? Let’s see how viewing my past relationships led me to Matt.

Mike: He worked for my family’s business, and I was swept away with his height, his hair and his deep brown eyes. We went on exactly three dates before he left for college an hour and a half away. Hadn’t kissed, barely hugged, grazed my hand in the popcorn bucket … let’s face it: he just wasn’t that into me.

Tim: He too worked for my family’s catering business (see a pattern here?), only we managed to hang out much more often, an entire summer in fact. We saw movies, got ice cream, drove around in his car … years later I discovered why he too never kissed me: gay.

Peter: Now this guy could actually be said to have been my first boyfriend, although when the situation came up, he always discouraged that kind of idea. I met him through my sister’s husband, learned how to flirt with him, kissed him many times, and basically gave him my heart before I knew he even wanted it. He later hinted to me that he wanted a relationship without the responsibilities (“I’m not looking for a girlfriend, but let’s hang out every night”), and after three months I discovered that I gave way too much away for a guy like that. He broke up with me (yes, I’ll admit it), and left me hurting inside for too long than I care to admit. He’s the one I learned the most from, and if I want to be honest with myself, the one who led me to my future husband.

Matt: I met Matt while still going out with #3, so obviously I was so entirely infatuated with him that Matt wasn’t even on the radar, especially after we broke up and I swore off men altogether (I wasn’t going to switch to women, I was just going to head to a religious convent). I left for South Africa for school soon after, learned why I was hurting so much for a guy who didn’t care that much for me, and discovered the kind of guy I DID want.

Here’s a letter I wrote my friend before I came back from my trip:

Dear Cathy,

Isn’t it funny, how things change? How, after they pass, you can see how important it was that they happened as they did? I never would have guessed that I would end up thinking this way, but I do.

Not only that, but I also know what it is that I don’t want. I don’t want to have a relationship where, after it ends, I know nothing about him. I want to talk about myself and about him, and things that affect the both of us. I want to talk about what I like and then what he likes, and not feel as though I’m bothering him with my questions. I want to learn about myself by learning about him. I don’t want to let each date pass by the same way.

And that led me to Matt.

Looking back, I can say for sure that when you’re young, you know absolutely nothing about life. I guess that’s why we have God to help us through it. It seemed that once I stopped fighting for what I wanted, and instead accepted what was given to me, life became so much sweeter. See below: