A Series of Unfortunate Romantic Entanglements
Meadowlark Morris - Age 12. Summer 2000
Meadowlark longed for summer days,but not for all the same reasons that rambunctious children counted down the days for school to end. While the beginning of summer did mean that she would be wrapping up schooling for a few months, it also meant that she'd be leaving Australia and heading to the states. To anyone else, being in Australia was almost like being on vacation, but when you called it home and so desperately wanted to be closer to the only family that you knew? Leaving was welcomed. She'd spend a majority of the months at summer camp, then rounded out her time visiting Bea and her family before heading back to Australia to continue her studies. Meadow had fallen in love with the idea of summer camp after watching Dirty Dancing. She had even gone so far as to find a camp in upstate New York to attend, in order to live her best Frances 'Baby' Houseman life. Up until then, a majority of her decisions or grand ideas had been based off of films and television. It was, after all, one of the many downsides to growing up away from most family and being homeschooled. But, Meadow was determined to make it work. She had been attending the same camp for years, cultivating friendships by sending long, handwritten letters, as well as treats and trinkets native to Australia. The summer after she turned 12 was the one she had been waiting for. she was finally going to show up to camp feeling glamorous. Or, as glamorous as a 12 year old could honestly feel.
Meadow had finally become a woman. And while she still was flat chested, and basically all legs, she now could join in the chorus of complaints and sharing her own woes of everything that came with womanhood. Among the hobbies she had picked up during the year, one of them was dance. Finally, her long legs had a purpose! The combination of ballet, tap, and jazz had assisted in making her less clumsy and better equipped to stand on her own two feet. She was finally a 'contender'. After time spent watching from the sidelines as the other girls seemed to catch the interest of boys, she was hoping that this year would be her year to do the same. Odette had scolded her, naturally. That her appearance and existence should have nothing to do with men and everything to do with herself, and while Meadow knew the older woman was right? Who could tell a boycrazy 12 year old any different? So it was with this newfound confidence that she entered camp that summer with a spring in her step and the determination to lock down a hottie and finally get her first kiss.
Much like the summer girls before her, (Sandra Dee and Baby Houseman, specifically) Meadow fell hard and fast for the camp 'bad boy'. Ryan Alvarez broke every one of the rules during the first week, and spent the remaining month and a half paying for it, which was how they met. During her free periods, Meadow had taken to helping in the horse barn, and Ryan had been assigned to clean out the stalls. He didn't talk much, but she didn't mind one bit. With her natural ability to fill silence with her incessant babbling, she happily carried on conversations, mostly with herself, but with the additional head nod and/or grunt from him. Eventually, he began participating in the interaction and on a rainy Wednesday afternoon, he pulled her into one of the freshly cleaned out stalls and kissed her. The scent of fresh hay and wet grass filled her senses, and she swore that she had never smelled anything sweeter. Of course, it could have been the combination of the scent and the event, but she didn't even care.
It stayed mostly innocent as the final weeks rolled on. Stolen kisses in the barn, around the campfire, and even in the dark corners of the mess hall. He had convinced her to sneak out and venture down to the lake with him. She refused to skinny dip, and he was kind enough to not push it, but he did not hold back his complaints as they made their way back to their respective cabins, soaked to the bone after jumping in fully clothed. Meadow had dreamed up all the scenarios in which their romance would continue after camp came to a close, never once thinking that it wouldn't work. Her bunkmates, while enthralled with the idea of the camp romance, had attempted to warn her that the summer was coming to a close and that usually meant the ending of the relationship. "You don't want to be that girl." one of them chimed in, "You know, the one that hangs on to the memories of what was and he's already moved on to the next." Obviously, the girl was incredibly astute, well beyond her thirteen years, but Meadow paid her no mind. They were going to last, she just knew it.
Those wise thirteen year old words came back to her and damn near smacked her across the face as she watched Ryan wave everyone off, offer her a lift of his chin in a head nod before slinging his arm around the young woman that had stepped out of the car on the last day of camp. She was gorgeous; Tanned skin, dark eyes with dark hair to match, curvy in a way that a flat chested 12 year old completely envied, and most importantly? She was the one with her arms around Ryan's neck, standing up on her tip toes to press a kiss against his lips. Her heart shattered and while she wanted to look away, she couldn't bring herself to. Her bunkmate had been right. Ryan hadn't even waited to move on. In fact, it seemed like she was the interim while this other girl was the end game. She was the distraction and someone else was now the owner of his time. It would take years for her to realize that the fact that the romance had come to a screeching halt was for the best, (since Ryan was both a skeeze and a cheater) but in that moment? She vowed that she'd never allow herself to feel that way again. Dramatic but mostly effective.
A Series of Unfortunate Romantic Entanglements
Meadowlark Morris - Age 23. Late Spring 2011
"He isn't worth your tears." One girl chimed in.
"Or your time!" Another girl added.
And while both girls each made very valid points, it didn't stop Meadow from shedding tears. She remained curled up into the corner of the couch, a crumpled up tissue in her hands that she brought up every so often to dab at her red rimmed, puffy eyes. The girls were meant to be celebrating the end of their four years at Boston University with one last sleepover. The four had all become close friends after joining cheer together and sticking with it for all four years. Their uniforms had been returned, their final team pictures had been taken, poms had been packed away, and they were ready to party. Well, mostly all of them were ready to party. Meadow was moreso preparing to nurse her heartbreak in dairy and Lifetime tv.
The final year of her time at Boston University was shaping up to be one of the best. She had been able to secure a position with a pastry chef, culinary school was well within her reach, and she had found a soulmate in Jon. After a disastrous courtship with an athlete, Jon had been the change that she desperately needed. He was smart, funny, interested in what she had to say, and supportive. He was a writer and often called her his 'muse', a term of endearment that sent her heart soaring and inspired her to doodle her name over and over again with his last name attached. He was hip and modern and didn't conform to the idea that a relationship needed to be labeled in order to be something real, and because she was so enamored with him? She believed him. They spent countless hours together in couply (but not labeled) bliss. The girls had warned her to question as to why he wasn't ready for the label and commitment, but she argued that she had all the commmitment she needed.
However, their ideas of commitment seemed to differ. Something that hadn't been evident to her, but became nauseatingly clear when she had walked in on him with another woman, in her apartment. She was shattered all over again, feeling hurt that he had cheated, and downright betrayed by the fact that he had done it in her own apartment. His excuse was flimsy, claiming that they had never really 'defined' their relationship, so he thought they were free to see other people. She managed to hold it together and kick him out, but quickly dissovled into a puddle of tears soon after the door shut. The girls were due to come over in a matter of hours and while she kept reminding herself that she had to get it together, it was a lost cause. The other three had arrived to find the door unlocked, and the tall redhead sitting on the couch, crying into a red solo cup. She blubbered out the story in between sobs and the girls began to rally. Drinks were mixed and made, music was played and they attempted to do what they could to lift their friend's spirits.
"Oh! put that one playlist on!"
"Which one?"
"The 'Female Scorn' one." the young woman bit down on her lip after mentioning the title of the playlist while glaning over at Meadow, "Too soon?"
The redhead merely lifted her shoulders in a shrug before letting out a heavy sigh. "Might as well turn it up. Carrie Underwood's anger leading her to cause damage to a guy's vehicle is inspiring."
"You know, that isn't such a bad idea." Meadow shot the girl a look and she offered a shrug of her shoulders as she pressed play on the ipod before taking a seat on the floor, bringing her cup up to take a sip. "Say what you want but after a few drinks? Digging your keys into the side of his MR2 might be liberating."
"Or potentially incarcerating."
"You say potato, I say let's fuck with his car."
A Series of Unfortunate Romantic Entanglements
Meadowlark Morris - Age 30. May 2018
Meadow was overreacting. She had a penchant to overreact about the smallest of things, but this didn't seem like an overreaction so much as a perfectly normal reaction to being rejected. But could it really be considered rejection if the object of interest wasn't exactly aware that they were rejecting the person? Clearly, she didn't know how the inner workings of a man's mind went, but it seemed pretty obvious that her advances (while admittedly small) were each brushed off. Sure, maybe she deserved it. She hadn't exactly always been the world's nicest person when it came to their interactions but wasn't that how it was supposed to go? It was the equivalent to hair pulling on the playground, or pushing someone down in the sandbox because you thought they were cute. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she should really stop comparing things to how they would be done if they were children. She was a goddamn adult. A confused goddamn adult, at that. The past week had been a blur, with very little to indicate what she had actually done, and while that should have worried her more, she was more concerned about the nonchalance and downright shrugging off of her (albeit pathetic) attempts to flirt.
She called Dayna, because naturally, she had been her compass for most things in life. The once wise thirteen year old was now a confident thirty-one year old that had stuck with Meadow throughout college and was there for almost every major life event. Dayna patiently listened as Meadow read through the conversation, waiting till the young woman was finished before offering her own opinion.
"So, you're into him?"
"I mean, it's not like I'm not into him, but I'm not sure that I am? It's a limbo period and really, I thought we were both kind of there but I guess not."
"You are forever in romantic purgatory, I swear to god, Meds. Calm down, it's going to be okay. So, he's not into you? It's okay, there are plenty of other fish in the sea for you to catch."
Meadow let out a groan as she fell back onto the couch, throwing an arm over her eyes dramatically as she held the phone to her ear. "Yeah I know, but it sucks."
"I can hear you pouting. It's incredibly unbecoming of a young lady."
"Screw you, allow me to be unbecoming."
"Fine, be that way. But if you think that's going to help your situation..."
"You never let me wallow." Meadow whined as she sat back up. Dayna's laughter was so loud, it caused the woman to wince and pull the phone away from her ear, making a face at it before placing it back. "Whatever, I'm just going to forget it, since you won't let me be a He's Just Not That Into You Gigi."
"Correction, Gigi becomes someone's exception at the end of the movie. Please specify that you're Gigi at the beginning of the film and not at the end. And I thought you were going to stop comparing your life to film and television."
Meadow rolled her eyes and leaned back into the couch once more. "I'm going to go, you're giving me a headache."
"Nope. You're giving yourself one. Stop the self pity, step away from the sweets, get to swiping on that app."
"THAT IS WHAT STARTED THIS MESS."
"Oh," there was a pause. "Well....I've got nothing, then. You're screwed."