There Were 2 Men in My Life Who Couldn’t Have Been More Different
I chose the wrong one
My mother was waiting outside of the hospital as two handsome firefighters took me out of an ambulance.
“I hope I see you again when I’m looking better,” I say.
“Oh honestly, Colleen,” says my mom.
Somehow I retained my humor.
Despite having just been in a terrible car accident. I was nineteen and working two jobs that summer while taking a night class. I fell asleep at the wheel.
It took them an hour to cut me out of the car.
When they got me to the street a police officer stood over me.
“I’m not going to give you a ticket for falling asleep,” he says. “Because I didn’t think they would pull anyone alive out of that car.”
I only remember a few moments after arriving at the hospital.
The worried look on my mom’s face.
And the words she whispered in a corner of the room.
“Can you give me the name of a good plastic surgeon?” she said.
I was beginning to realize the blood dripping down my face might be far worse than I thought. I drifted in and out. I didn’t wake again until sometime much later.
My mother had gotten a plastic surgeon.
It turned out that many of the cuts were superficial except for one or two.
My sister-in-law would come daily and put vitamin E cream on my face.
I had broken my two lower vertebrae. I had a concussion, and some nerve damage to one of my hands. Initially, they told my mom I would likely have either severe internal injuries, brain damage, or be paralyzed.
I never hit the brakes since I had fallen asleep.
It meant I hit the massive tree at a high rate of speed.
I miraculously defied all of the odds.
My friends came to visit as did my high school boyfriend. Despite the fact I had broken up with him to date the guy I was seeing in college.
My high school boyfriend was a saint.
We went out for two and half years on and off.
I broke up with him so many times he should have been done with me. At the same time, we never stopped being best friends. We had a bond.
During one of his visits, I said, “My family won’t show me a mirror. No one will.”
I was worried.
I remembered my mom uttering those words before I lost consciousness. He tried to resist my request. But I kept asking since my back injury made me bedridden.
I needed someone to bring me a mirror.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“Will you show me a mirror?” I asked.
He finally gave in to my demands. I waited with anticipation. He still didn’t want to give it to me. When I gazed at my reflection I was shocked.
My eyes were black and my face was swollen with cuts all over it.
“You’re still beautiful,” he says. “You will always be beautiful.”
Even at nineteen…
I was smart enough to realize what guy could ever love me this much.
Who could utter those words in that reflection?
But remember I had broken up with him to start dating my then-college boyfriend. Two very different guys. The writing was on the wall. I should have seen it.
But I was young and immature.
I wasn’t ready for a guy as confident and devoted as my high school boyfriend was. I was looking for a challenge and a thrill. I wanted a run for my money.
I had told the guy I was seeing in college that I wanted to take the summer off.
He was a lifeguard and a bouncer at the Jersey Shore and I was in Virginia. It seemed like the least angst-ridden to do until the summer was over.
One day my mom and sister walked into my hospital room with big smiles and handed me a letter.
“Oh my gosh,” I say. “You read this letter didn’t you?”
“I didn’t,” says my mother. “I made your sister read it. We didn’t want to bring it to you if it was bad news but if it was good news we wanted to give it to you.”
It was a good letter.
He was asking if since a month had passed could we resume dating. My family had gotten in touch with him once the letter arrived to let him know I had been in a car accident.
He sent me flowers.
He never made the drive from Jersey to Virginia.
He never saw what I looked like.
He didn’t seem to worry about how I was doing.
He said his mother wouldn’t let him use the car. I remember thinking it was odd. We were at an age where we could have found friends to drive with us. There were plenty of ways he could have come to see me.
It was a major car accident.
I was supposed to be hospitalized for a month. I ended up getting out after a few weeks because the day they fitted me for a back brace my sister showed up.
“Where is she?” asked my sister.
“She’s in her room,” said the nurses.
“No,” said my sister. “She’s not in her room.”
I had been on my back for two weeks.
I wasn’t supposed to be out of bed for any reason.
But I ignored them and got out of bed once they put that brace on me. I couldn’t stand very well because I was dizzy. I held onto the wall as I walked out of my room and down the hallway.
And that’s where my sister found me.
Clinging to a wall walking as best I could.
“I want to get my sister discharged,” she said. “I’m a nurse. If she can get herself up and walk this far she can go home.”
It’s the only reason I wasn’t there for a full month.
My college boyfriend called me.
My high school boyfriend checked on me.
There were two men in my life.
And they couldn’t have been more different.
One who never let me down, who showed up when I needed him, who forgave me over and over again, and who saw beauty in me when a mirror clearly showed me otherwise.
And another guy who never took the time to visit the girl he said he loved.
I chose the wrong one.
Because I was too immature to appreciate a confident man who had the ability to fully love me. I learned the hard way…through marital unhappiness and divorce.
In that respect, I don’t think I’m alone.
There are plenty of other women out there who chose the wrong one.
