Love Story

Way back when I met Brian Lee in speech class (thank you, Dencil Taylor(yes, that was his name. He always said Dencil, rhymes with Pencil)!), I never in a million years dreamed I’d fall in love with him.
When he asked me out, I said no. Then I broke up with my boyfriend (boyfriend broke up with me) and we were still in class together and I thought, why not?!
I invited him to a party my friends were having at Killingsworth.
I remember I had a new dress and it showed off my legs, which looked pretty awesome thanks to my broken heart, and my back. It was black, daring and very 80s. I soooooo wish I had pictures from those days, but the only one I have is of me playing some game where you yelled “Viva Freddy Fudpucker” and drank if you missed. Um, no. I’m not posting it.
I digress.
So we went out, and it was a one time date. Brian Lee was enough older than me that the wild antics taking place at that party were a tab on the immature side for him. At least that’s what I thought. I also thought he was way too much of a “nice guy.”
We finished speech, I got back together with the old boy friend (yay! broken hearted no more.) and I didn’t think about the guy from speech who made a terrific case for why Tipper Gore needed to be institutionalized.
At least not until…

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