Home again home again

Well, friends here I am. My heart is not broken, as I thought it would be, but I did make the journey back across the pond alone. I went to the majestic land of Scotland and I guess I found what I was looking for, in some weird, obscure way. I got my answer, even if it wasn't the one I have desparately hoped and prayed for all these years. None of my friends that I met up with over there had really kept in touch with him over the years. They didn't have a phone number, an address, only facebook, which we are still not sure he ever actually checks. One of them knew where he worked, and I went there. He wasn't there, but the nice man let me leave a note for him. My sweet friend whom I stayed with sent him a message on facebook every time we were going to be somewhere, what time we were going, and how long we were going to be there. Not only did he never show, but he never responded. To me that is a very clear statement. I was disapointed, but not shattered as I thought I would be. From some lengthy discussions with my friends over there, I have a feeling that he might have ended up not being the knight in shining armor that I made him up to be. Or as one my Scottish friends gallently worded it, maybe I just brought out the best in him. Regardless, not only did I not convince him that we were supposed to be together, I didn't even get the opportunity to see his face or have a conversation with him.

I was hoping for a lot and I was looking for something, at least closure. That, I think I recieved. Though I didn't see him or even hear his voice, I now am fully aware of the fact that he has moved on. He has a life that does not include me and I am surprisingly ok with that. Perhaps i was no longer in love with him, but simply the idea that he was as I remember him. Luckily, without actually having a conversation with, he can remain that way in my head, in my heart, and in my memories forever. For now, he will always be the most romantic boy I ever loved, until that changes of course. I will probably think of him everytime that I look to the sky and see the bright trio that is Orion's Belt. I have a feeling that somewhere in the back of his mind, he will be doing the same.

This is a good thing. I truly believe that now, I might actually be able to find another man that I am 100% capable of loving completely. I might actually be able to date someone that I can see myself with as opposed to the srting of men I have been dating. The ones that I know will never go anywhere so they are safe for me. I don't have to be completely vulnerable, I can keep my guard up. Hopefully now, I will be able to find a man who loves me and one that I can truly love in return. I promise to keep all of you updated and please don't worry. I will begin another blog and tell you all another story. Thank you for letting me tell this tale, and for at least pretending to care how it ended up. I might be alone, but my heart is not broken.

Bon Voyage and All That Jazz

Well friends, here it is. The day I have been looking forward to with an anxious heart for weeks now. I leave tomorrow so let's all start praying this snow leaves and goes west. I am almost all packed and even though today is really shaping up to not be my day, everything will get done. I will get my currency exchanged, I will pick up my laundry, and everything is fine, right? The last time I went to Scotland, there was a strike in Amsterdam and we were rerouted to London the next day. Then coming home we missed our flight in Amsterdam and had to treck through Minniapalous where we spent the night and then flew to Memphis. This time I have successfully avoided any contact with Amsterdam, so everything will be fine.
I am nervous. I am excited. I am terrified. My sweet friend there has arranged a dinner for me to catch up with all of my friends that I met while I was there. Scottish guy recieved an invite. I hope he comes. I just know that I need to see him again. If he isn't the one then I'll know as soon as I see him. If I am the one, then I think he will know as soon as he sees me. If he shows up with a girlfriend in tow then we might have some tension, but I think all of those little details can be worked out.
I know that today of all days some of you would like to try and talk me out of trying to ensure that I see him. All I ask of you, my faithful followers, is that you keep those thoughts to yourself and send me only encouragement. I know it is asking alot, but right now with the snow looming over me and the bank not being aware of all of my funds, and my laundry not being done yet, and all of the little details, I really just don't need any negativity. I need support and encouragement. I know this is crazy because this is real life and not the silver screen, but there are tons of people in the world who claim that they married their soulmate or they definitely married prince charming. Who is to say that I can't be one of them?
I have written him a letter and in case I don't get to see him I will ask my sweet friend to make sure he gets it when I leave. I just have some things that I need to say to him and if I can't do them in person then I will make sure they get said somehow.
I must leave you now and finish up all of the little details. Wish me luck and I will let all of you know how it goes.
This is Shanna Riker, signing off.

Before happily ever after

Hello friends, I am sorry that I have been away for awhile. I had some friends in town this weekend and I was a bit distracted. Now I am back and ready to continue with my story. I have double checked with my friends and everything is in order. The hotels are booked, the plane tickets are here, the concert tickets are purchased and even the train tickets from city to city have been bought. There is officially no turning back now.
I have decided that it will all work itself out. If I don't see him then at least I will have a wonderful vacation while I am there. I know that at least two of the people that I am friends with in Scotland know where he is and how to find him. Everyone seems hesitant to bring it up and I have the feeling that none of them actually know what happened between us, or else they just aren't talking. One of my dear friends from Scotland has arranged sort of a reunion dinner for me with everyone that is still around the area and I have a feeling that he has been invited. I feel that I will let fate take its course and with a little help from my friends, I feel that I will at least be able to see him again.
Now I have no idea what would actually happen if he told me that yes he still loved me and wanted to be with me. What would we do? Would he move to New York City, or would I stay there? Would we do long distance until we could figure it out? These are the things that you don't see in movies. Before the happily ever after, there has to be some planning, some discussions, some thought. Happily ever after takes some effort, which I am willing to go through if we both want to be together.
I feel that if nothing else, I simply need to see him again. I need to know if I still get all tingly when I see him, and if he still gets all tingly when he sees me. I am certain that I will know just by seeing him whether or not I still have these massive strong feelings for him which I have held on to for all of these long years. I wonder if every scottish guy buys some girl a star. Maybe over there its the equivolent of a class ring or a letterman's jacket. I doubt it and I still feel that it was the most special gift I have ever received and I will be able to cherish forever. Every time that I look at the stars in the night sky, I will remember him and the memories we made together.
I am very excited about my trip, and definitely excited about the possibility of seeing him again and working out all of these feelings that I still have. Today I will leave you with a thought: "Trying to forget someone you have loved is like trying to remember someone you have never met."

All you need is love

II have decided after rereading my post from yesterday that I will not be sharing any more of those scenerios I have created in my head with you today. Maybe eventually, but not today. I realized that I might seem a tiny bit crazy in actually admitting those things out loud, even though I know I am not the only person who imagines things vividly in their mind. However, crazy is not the way to get the love of your life back. I went through a crazy spell with him once and we all know where that got me.
So, I have decided to handle this maturely and sanely. Now I only have one question... how exactly do I do that?
Do I try to go about this the way the protaganist would in a movie? Do I channel the Serendipity in all of us and just go based on a feeling, knowing that the time is right? Do I put on my 27 Dresses and go and crash a party he's at and then make my 'I Love You' speech into the DJ's microphone? Do I go Across the Universe, stand on top of a building and sing until he comes to find me? Do I return to Sweet Home Alabama and tell him I only want to Marry him so I can kiss him any time I want? Should I pretend I am 13 Going on 30, pull out my wishing dust and hope for the best?
I know that none of those situations are real, but all fiction is based somewhere in truth, right? The problem is, well one of many, is that I don't even know where to look. I am scared. I have held on to the this for so many years, and I am still convinced that he is the only one for me. What if he isn't? What if I find him again and I hate him.. or worse, he hates me? Dear friends, I am curious. What would you do?

An anxious heart

What am I , nuts? It suddenly occured to me that I am going back to Scotland. I am going to find a man that I haven't seen or heard from in six years. Oh my god. What if he doesn't want me? What if I can't find him? What if he's married?
Okay. I just slapped myself across the face, metaphorically of course, and I am better now. Just breath.
My plans are as finalized as they can be. I have plane tickets, hotel reservations, train tickets, and concert tickets. The only thing that I don't currently have is a plan. I have played out this situation over and over again in my head and over the next day or so I plan to share some of them with you. We all want a hollywood ending, a happily ever after, and a part of me, small that it is, knows that this might not happen. I am trying to prepare for anything, good or bad that could arise from me crossing the pond again and trying to find my soulmate.
Situation #1:
I find him in the bar that he works in as I walk in randomly to grab a beer before continuing my search. I go up to the bar and he comes out from the backroom. We make eye contact and we both begin to smile. We chat and he tells me that he is not sure that he can let me back into his life again. I begin to cry and and hand him a detailed itenerary of where I will be for the next few days, and also my New York phone number and address. I leave the bar and go directly to the park where we first kissed. As I am sitting there crying, it begins to snow and I hear someone come up behind me. Without looking, I know it is him as he quickly puts his arms around me. He tells me that he decided he would be foolish not to let me back into his life and we live happily ever after.
situation # 2:
I run into him accidentily as I am going to the theater where we did our show. I literally bump into him as I am going in and he is going out. He sees that it is me, and in a state of shock he kisses me ferociously. Then upon realizing what he has done, he pushes back and stands three feet from me. We stand in complete silence until his girlfriend comes out from the theater and asks him to introduce us. He says that I am just a girl he used to know, introduces me casually and then they walk off with his arm around her. I run to the park where I know he will come looking for me if he wants to find me, I sit on bench and wait. Finally he shows up and tells me that we all make choices in life and he has chosen her. He says that a part of him will always love me, but that he has chosen her.

Now keep in mind that I admit that I am a "terribly hopeless romantic". Obviously I am one with way to much time on her hands. I have played this over and over again in my head, each time with a different ending. Tomorrow I will share a few more of my scenerios, but for now I would like to make a few key points about the two of these.
First of all, am I crazy? Second of all, can I stand a severe broken heart if he says he doesn't want to be with me or will my heart be broken at all? Will it be a dark day or will I find the strengh to see the silver lining in the cloud that is hanging over my head? What if he says yes, and he wants to be with me forever... then what?
Ok my friends, my head is beginning to hurt and starting to spin. Until tomorrow my friends where we will have more scenerios and even more questions.

Across the miles

So here I sit, in my New York apartment, reflecting on the pieces of my Scottish love story that I have shared with you. I feel that I have been accurate and have not made the accidental shift between fact and fiction. I have showed you all a piece of my self and of my soul. I have told you one of my biggest secrets, and now I have another one to tell.
My favorite band, Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers (http://www.azpeacemakers.com/) , will be doing their first UK tour in Feb. of this year. I have followed them all over for years and seen them in over 15 different cities and in Mexico. This is big. They will be playing in Edinburgh, Glascow, Bristol, London, Nottingham, and Manchester. When my friends, who I follow them with, and I heard the announcement, we knew we had to go.
I wanted to go see the band of course, but I also had other intentions. I had an oportunity to return to Scotland. Nothing else mattered. I had a chance to find my soulmate again. So, I talked to my friends, and bought my plane tickets.
I am still in contact with some of the people I met while I was there and I am planning to see them. I am leaving New York a few days before my friends and making the journey across the miles alone. I will fly into Edinburgh, take the bus to Dundee, and then meet up with the friends I have over there.
I have to find him. I have to see him again. I don't know where he lives, or works, or his phone number, but my soul won't rest until I find him. For all these years, I have been searching for someone as great as him, and now I have the opportunity to go and get him.
Now, keep in mind that I haven't heard from him in years. He could be married... or gay... or something else, but I have to do this. I have to find him and tell him that I have loved him all these years. If nothing else, I simply have to see him again.
I don't have a plan yet, but at least I have some friends who are friends with him, or at least know him. Dundee is not that big and if I have to go in every pub and place of buisness until I find him, then I guess that is what I have to do. I will get a plan, or maybe I won't, but I am returning to Scotland. Scotland is magical and magical things happen there.
Stay tuned, for tomorrow I will give you more details about my trip, and my plans, and the greatest desires of my heart of hearts.

Trouble in paradise

So here we are for one more day of digression, and hopefully it will be the last. After the Memphis Maniac fiasco was over, life in NYC was good. Exciting and boring since I no longer had a stalker, but not the kind of boring you complain about. Then one day out of the clear, blue, winter sky, I had the brilliant idea to move to Maui. I put in for a transfer and before I knew it, I was on the sandy beaches of paradise. I was there for six months before I met him. I lived in the upstairs part of a two story duplex. One day I was sitting on my balcony with a towel on my head, smoking a cigarette, and there he was. This really attractive, blond, curly haired, shirtless, sufer dude. He was friends with my downstairs neighbors and I had never seen him before. He made eye contact with me and came bounding up my stairs. He said that I had a beautiful smile and he just had to come and introduce himself.
Now, the warning bells should have gone off in my head, but conisdering that my last boyfriend never complemented me, and I was in the middle of a year and a half dry spell, I ate it up. From that moment, the two of us were practically joined at the hip.
Let me just say that there are a lot of things that you cannot know about a person while you are simply dating them. After three months, it seemed that my roomates and his roomates had decided to move, so we were faced with a decision: stay where we were and interview and meet tons of strangers and then have to pick some to move in to our current places... or move in together and get our own place.
Obviously, the first would have beeen the best decision, but like I have said before, Hindsight is 20/20.
So, Maui Mental Case and I moved in together, which I swore I would never do, but we did it. For about a month everything seemed fine, and then he got comfortable and began to show his true colors. Now all of the details of those colors aren't really necessary, so I will give you a brief summary.
He drank too much, took too many pills, and was terrified to go to sleep at night. Now, I don't do drugs, I barely drink, and I love a good night sleep. I quickly became terrified of even having a drink because what if something happened and I had to drive one of us to the hospital. What if one of my friends was stranded on the highway and I had to go and help her. So, I quickly became angry with him, because it seemed that all he did was drink and wake me up at 4 in the morning because he wanted me to pay attention to him. P.S., don't wake me up at 4 in the morning unless you are dying or are family or are one of my very best friends in desparate need of conversation.
Finally, I woke up one morning with him screaming at me because there were pictures of me with boys on my computer, which I didn't even know he knew the password to. Mind you these were not dirty pictures, simply pictures of me that happened to have boys in them. I left the house, went to the internet cafe and bought a plane ticket home, to Memphis. I left a few days later and I wasn't planning on looking back. Then one day he calls me and asks if we were still faithfully together.
Um... I was under the impression that when I walked out and went to the airport.. that, No we weren't faithfully together, or together period. I only let the phone calls continue for a few days before I called my service provider and spoke with a delightful lady. I told her my ex boyfriend was harassing me and I needed to change my number... again. They must have me in the "ex boyfriend file" on their computers because this was definitely the third time I had changed my number in two and a half years. She was so sweet that she even waived the $36 dollar fee. Luckily, Maui Mental case wasn't as ambitious as the Memphis Maniac and never came looking for me.
So, those are my searching years. After 4 months spent living back with my parents in Memphis, I got my old job back and moved back to NYC, which is where I currently am... single and yet again in dry spell. However, I have learned that a dry spell is much more pleasant than a crazy boyfriend.
Tommorrow I will continue with my Scottish love story, because as I have said before, the story isn't over yet.

Somewhere out there...

I begin today with a warning, it might seem like a bit of a digression, but please bear with me. Today I am telling a condensed version of the searching years, but it is a necessary chapter to further and hopefully someday complete my tale.
After my Scottish guy left Memphis for the last time, to my knowledge, I went through a very painful, heartbreaking time, and even now, I still feel a paing of heartbreak when I look to the sky, but that isn't the point. Since then I have had two serious... or long relationships, however you wish to look at it. The first one was while I was still living in Memphis, TN. Lets call him Memphis Maniac, because that sort of sums it up. I started dating him soon after I finished college. We worked together, and for some reason I felt that he needed me in his life. He was too skinny, depressed, had horrible views of the world and my maternal nature wanted desparately to take care of him; to fix him. I am not sure if the relationship was so much convenient as it was my need to love and nurture. I know now that I probably should have just went out and bought a puppy, because at least those you can train.
However, we dated for a year and a half... and let's just be honest, I wondered for most of it why we were still dating. We never went on dates and when we did, he never planned them. There is something to be said for spontenity, but there is also something to be said for even once planning the evening before it was time to pick me up. But, I digress. For the majority of the relationship, we watched movies, we played the Wii, which, thank God and Nintendo for that wonderful invention. He was rude to my friends, lazy as a hound dog, and JEALOUS. All of these things are usually quite the turn off for me... and they were with him too, but somehow I convinced myself that I could fix him. I didn't. Not that I didn't try, but old habits die hard and you can't even teach a dog a trick if it isn't willing to learn.
So... I moved to NYC. I had been saying that I would for years, and I finally I did, just like that. I gave everyone at home two weeks notice, including the Memphis Maniac, packed some bags and left. Maybe I was running away, but I justified with the fact that I was gonna go anyway... it just had to be then.
He and I "stayed together" for almost three months after I moved and then I finally said that I just couldn't be in a relationship with him anymore. And we didn't speak until three months later when I went home for a visit and called him to get my stuff. We met up, had coffee and then went our separate ways. I thought to myself... wow that was easy.
And then it wasn't. He suddenly remembered my number... and used it alot. He called me 5,6 and even up to 10 times a day. He said things about moving to NYC so he could be with me. He wrote me novels in the form of text messages and my phone bills became astronomical. Finally, I did what I had to do. I changed my number. Twice actually because somehow he figured out the first one. Finally, after he came to NYC, went to my work and asked for me, (NO, I didn't happen to be there), it was done. I never heard from him again. So... that was my first relationship experience after the love of my life got himself a girlfriend. Stay tuned for tommorrow where I will share the joys of my second post Scottish guy relationship... Maui Mental Case.
Until then my friends, and remember, this is only a minor, yet necessary digression.

Just on the edge of crazy

My scottish guy went home and I didn't see him for the rest of his visit. It was no matter, he had done what he had come to do. I was in such a state of shock that I didn't know what to do. For me it had always been him. He was the one and I couldn't fathom him not being the one. It was a struggle for me because I had done the same to him, how dare I think that he wasn't allowed to have a girlfriend. I didn't think that, it had just never occured to me that he would .... not that he wasn't worthy of having one... it was just that after my star, I thought I was his girlfriend. I mean he bought me a star for crying out loud.
I dealt with my pain the best that I knew how to do. I cried, I watched sappy movies, I ate tons of junk food, but still I could find nothing to actually fill this gaping hole in my heart. Then one day I had the wonderful idea to email and just remind him how I felt about him. That was when I snapped. Not hard core, "One Floo Over the Cookoo's Nest" snapped, or even "The Bell Jar" snapped, but somewhere close to Julia Roberts in "My Best Friend's Wedding" snapped. I am fairly certain that I even plaigerized her in my email when I said, "You have loved me for four years. Pick me. Love me. Marry Me."
I said a lot more things that looking back now, I wish I had simply let time tell its tale, but I was still young and I thought that if I didn't have him, I would never find someone to love me the way he did. And even now, 6 years later, I have yet to find a man who can love me the way I want him too.
So I snapped and waded softly in the deep end. Two days later when my Scottish guy emailed me back, it was worse than I expected. He said that he would always love me, but seeing as though there was an ocean in between us, that we should explore our options. We were still so very young, why should we think that we had found our soulmates at such a young age. He said "I will love you forever, Shanna, but I want to see where this relationship can go."
I think that after that I emailed him five or six more times, and a different response never came. Actually any response at all never came. That was the last email I recieved from him, and that was six years ago. However, don't think the story ends there. Today I will leave you with a thought from my good friend Pat... "We are young. Heart ache to heart ache we stand. Love is a battlefield."

Wish upon a fallen star...

I have to make an insert here that I forgot to mention earlier... After I broke off the engagement with Mississippi Man, Scottish guy and I made a pact. We decided through emails and AOL Instant Messanger that if we weren't married by the time we were 28, then we would have to marry one another... I know very My Best Friend's Wedding, but I think when we both made that vow... we meant it...
I went outside every night for months, just to look at my star. I would gaze up at the sky and wonder what my Scottish guy was doing. One day I received an email from him and he was coming for another visit.... in the fall. I was so excited I almost jumped for joy. I thought to myself that this was it. We, my Scottish guy and I, were finally going to get engaged. I just knew it with all of my heart, that the time was now. I only had one year of college left and that was just enough time to plan a wedding. It was perfect.
So, Scottish guy was comng for a visit and I planned a very fun, and romantic evening. I was going to pick him up at our friend's house the night after he got into town, take him to dinner, then take him to a big empty parking lot for his very first driving lesson, then we were going to go to the big soccer fields in Memphis and look at the stars. The summer very quickly faded into fall and before I knew it, the time had come for me to see my Scottish guy again.
I was dressed in my brand new outfit, not that what I was wearing had ever mattered to him before, and I went to pick him up.
We enjoyed a wonderful dinner, which to be honest with you, I don't even know where it was. Then I took him to the Bellevue Church parking lot, which by the way is enormous, and not only was this his first driving lesson on our side of the road, but to my knowledge, his first driving lesson EVER. He did so well and I was very proud of him... he didn't even scare me.... though I didn't think actually taking him on the roads was a very good idea.
Once I was back in the driver's seat, he asked me what I would like to do next and I motioned to the blanket in the backseat, and mentioned going to star gaze. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, he dropped a bombshell on me that I was absolutely not expecting.
"Um, Shanna." (Long pause) "I've got a girlfriend. That's why I planned this trip, so that I could come and tell you in person." As if him having a girlfriend didn't make me feel bad enough, then I had to have it rubbed in my face that yes, I had been a coward when I got back together with my college boyfriend. Even if I had wanted to tell him in person, I couldn't have afforded to.
So, there we were, sitting in an empty parking lot, silently. I decided it was best if I just took him home, because for once, I had no words. I wasn't crying, so much as I was numb and unfeeling. I took my Scottish guy back to our friend's house, and then I drove home with tears streaming down my face. That was the end to my perfectly planned, romantic evening.

The star that shines the brightest

Remember in the beginning, when I met my Scottish guy and we laid in the grass and looked at the stars. He kissed me for the very first time and the magic had begun. Well, here I was, a year and a half later wondering why my Scottish guy didn't propose to me. Perhaps he wasn't ready to trust me, perhaps looking back I wasn't ready to trust myself with actually being able to completely love another human being, but regardless, I still felt when he boarded that plane that we had unfinished buisness. We weren't at all where I had hoped we would be when he left, and nothing had really been discussed about where we stood. Were we alone? Were we together? I had no idea.
So I got home from the airport and I checked the mail. I ripped open my fancy envelope and about ten sheets of paper fell onto the dining room table. I picked them up and began to inspect them.
"No way," I thought to myself.
Upon a close inspection of my documents, I reconfirmed that my Scottish guy was absolutely the most romantic guy in all the world. There in front of me was my star. He had bought me a star. I received a certificate with my name and the date of my 21st birthday and a quote, "Look to the sky and I'll be there, and I will do the same." The fancy envelope also contained a map to guide me to find my star and it just so happens to be in the middle of the two stars on the right of Orion's Belt.
I have a star. I am a star. Scottish guy made me a star when no could else could. This was way better than an engagement ring. This was by far the best gift I have ever received. I didn't even know that he remembered that I wanted a star, because we had talked about it so long ago. My father and I got out our old telescope, went into the front yard, and looked at my star. Let me just tell you that if I wasn't completely in love with him before, this sealed the deal for me. Scottish guy bought me a star and I was certain that I would never love another man again. He was the one. He was my soulmate, and without him, my soul would be left to wander, forever searching for its mate.

If only he had asked

So, I broke off my engagement. I gave the ring to Mississippi man's sister at 6 am the next morning when she banged on my dorm room door. I talked to my parents and I could hear them jumping for joy through the telephone. I cried and laughed and cried because I was laughing. I emailed my Scottish guy and told him the news. I don't know what I was expecting, but I didn't hear from him for a few days after I sent the email and I was just beginning to wonder if he was done with me for good.
Finally, a week after I told him that I wasn't getting married, he called me out of the blue. Scottish guy told me that he was proud of me and that he thought I made the right desicion. Then, he told me he was coming for a visit, and he would be here right after my 21st birthday.
Whoo hoo, Scottish guy was coming for a visit and I was single. I felt that things couldn't have been any better. I was so excited because I knew that this was it. The timing was right and we could finally be together.
He arrived and everything was good. He and I and a bunch of the kids that went to Scotland with me were all planning to go out to dinner. They came to pick me up at my house and Scottish Guy handed me a small blue box, my 21st birthday present.
Now, before I go any further, my heart stopped for just a moment. I thought to myself , "yes, he is finally going to propose." I knew that I was only a month out of an engagement, but I wanted to marry him. I finally opened the box to reveal a beautiful gold.... heart shaped.... necklace.... with the words "someone special" engraved in it. Thank God I didn't just scream out the word yes before I opened the box. I am not going to lie... I was a little bit disapointed. Don't get me wrong, the necklace was beautiful and so sweet and romantic, and to this day I still wear it. Not everyday, but I do still wear it. I allowed him to put it on me and the second I felt his touch again, I was no longer disapointed, but once again in a complete state of bliss.
The next day he and I and one of our theater companions went to the zoo in Memphis. We spent the day together, laughing,talking, catching up, and just being together. It was like before; like I had never even been engaged.
That night I took him to one of my favorite Memphis bars, and only being barely 21 it also happened to be the only Memphis bar I knew of with cheap drinks and a dance floor.
We went, and drank, and danced and had an amazing time. We met this older, extremely drunk couple who kept telling us what a cute couple we made. We had so much fun, and I didn't drop him off until the wee hours of the morning.
The next night some friends of my friends were playing a show downtown and I took him with me. It seemed as if this trip of his was all about me and we couldn't get enough of each other. We made out when I dropped him off at his friend's house, and I didn't want to say goodbye because he was leaving the next day and I didn't know where we stood or when I would see him again. Things were uncertain. I had a year left of college, I wanted to be with him, to marry him. I would have moved to Scotland. It would have been hard, and I would have missed my family terribly, but I would have done it to be with him. But, he didn't ask me.
The next day, hours after his plane had departed, I went out to check the mail, and I had received a very fancy envelope.
I opened it and what fell on the dining room table was to date, the most romantic, most wonderful, most thoughtful gift I have ever received.

The daunting wedding dress

After my Scottish guy's visit, we kept in touch, but the emails were fewer and more far between. We rarely called one another and I assumed that he had moved on and had probably found some other girl to love and be sweet to.
Though my parents hated it, we proceeded with the wedding plans. My mom and I went to a small bridal boutique in Dyersburg, TN and we found my perfect wedding dress. It had been custom made for a girl who had wanted a spring wedding, but then they had postponed until fall. I should have found out if she actually got married, because it seems that this dress might possibly have been cursed.
Nothing was going the way I wanted it to be. Nothing at all. I wanted to spend one night in the Peabody Hotel in Memphis before going to the Virgin Islands. Instead, we were planning to spend one night at a mosquito infested B & B in north Mississippi before going to Pensicola, FL. I wanted to have a BBQ catered rehearsal dinner, and instead we were having a Pot Luck. I wanted to have five bridesmaids, but instead I was having six because Mississippi man's sister, whom I did not get along with, had pitched a fit that I didn't ask her to be in the wedding. I wanted to wait until after my 21st birthday so that I could have a drink at my own wedding, but since I was engaged to a youth minister, there would be no drinking... or dancing at the wedding anyway, so why should we wait. I wanted red velvet cake... blood red... but the father of the groom, who was making the cake insisted that he would not make a red velvet wedding cake.
Mississippi man and I fought from the second he put that ring on my finger, and it seemed that I could never win.
Once, while I was at his parents' house for the weekend, we got into a HUGE battle, regarding every single little detail of the wedding, of our lives, of the way he spent money, of our kids' lives, who mind you, did not exist. Finally, I told him that when I walked into the reception hall before the wedding and I cut into that cake and it was not red velvet, then I was just going to get into my car and take myself to the airport and buy a ticket to the Virgin Islands. Then I said that we should just postpone the wedding. I had had enough and I was done fighting about it. "Hold everything," I said, "do not put down any more deposits. I'm Done."
Then I got in my car and drove the 45 minutes back to campus. We struggled with our engagement and our pending divorce for far too long. Months of fighting over the stuff that is supposed to be the easy part, and neither of us willing to back down. Finally, a month before the inital date of the wedding, at two in the morning, I was lying in bed wide awake. I prayed to God that he would break up with me, for hours I had been praying this prayer. Finally, as if God had slapped me in the face, I knew that he never would.
So, I picked up the phone and I called him, because it felt as if it were a matter of life or death. He answered the phone and I told him I had been doing some thinking. Now, I would just like to say that Hollywood has a way of even making break ups seem romantic...because there always seems to be someone waiting in the wings. That was not the case with this one.
ME: I've been doing some thinking
Mississippi man: Just tell me right now, yes or no
Me: (long pause) no...
Mississippi man: ok, my sister will pick up the ring tomorrow. (hangs up phone)
That was it. That was how Shanna Riker broke off her engagement. Part of me wanted to jump for joy and scream "free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I am free at last." Part of me wanted to ball my eyes out for no apparent reason. Part of me wanted to email Scottish Guy and tell him the news. Part of me just wanted to talk to my mama and daddy. So... I did all of those things. I shouted, I cried, I called my parents, and I emailed Scottish Guy.
And this is the story of how I ended up with a custom made wedding dress, still to this day hanging in my closet, laughing at me. I have tried to sell it, but it has been a no go. So maybe one day I will make a quilt out of my almost, but thank God it didn't happen wedding.
Tomorrow, more romantic endeavers with the Scottish Guy.

Old flames and ashes

A few weeks later, it was nearing the time for my Scottish guy to come and visit. We had plans to go out to dinner the night after he got into town. It was still summer, and I had no responsibilities , except for teaching during the day. I was teaching a group of 5 and 6 year olds on the day of his pending arrival, and we were pretending that we were animals. Now, I have to insert here with the fact that I didn't wear my ring while I was teaching. I was afraid that I would loose it, or that I would scratch one of my kids while we were playing or improving or wrestling. What if one of the diamonds fell out and someone picked it up and swallowed it? I know now that I was only justifying in my mind the reasons why I wasn't wearing it. The truth was that I didn't really want to be, but those reasons were fair enough to keep everyone off my back about it.
So there I was pretending to be a cow for a very captive 5 and 6 year old audience, dressed in ripped jeans, a band t shirt with a bandana on my head, and I looked up and he was there. My Scottish guy was watching me with these kids and he had this smile on his face that I had never seen before. I think he would have married me right that second if I had let him. I left my class in the hands of my assistant, ran down the isle of the theatre and hugged him as if he had been lost at sea and pronounced dead.
The next night, I was getting dressed for dinner and my mom begged me not to wear my ring. She said that he already knew and that was hurtful enough, and begged me not to wear it. I have learned as I got older that if you don't want me to do something, just insist that I do it. Since my mom was so insistant that I shouldn't wear it, I put it on my finger and walked out the door. Was I being a brat? Yes. Did I really want to rub in the love of my life's face that I had an engagement ring? No. But, I did it any way and we all know that hindsight is 20/20.
We went to dinner, and had lovely, yet extremely awkward time. There were words floating in the air that both of us wanted to say, but neither of us could find the strength. I am sure he wanted to say something about my ring, and all I wanted to do was take it off, throw it away, pretend I lost it, but the damage had been done. His heart had been broken.
When I dropped him off at our friend's house later that evening, we had a very awkward goodbye. He hugged me very tightly for a very long time. He whispered in my ear as he was stroking my hair, that seeing that ring on my finger was the most heartbreaking moment of his life, and if I changed my mind to please let him know. I cried and he cried and then he said he would always love me. And then he said goodbye in a way that we had never said goodbye before. I was convinced that this was it and that I would never see or hear from my Scottish guy ever again.
On that note I must leave you. This story is getting easier to tell, and the tears that fall are no longer uncontrollable, but I am still teary eyed and my heart still hurts, and that means it is time to leave you until tomorrow.

Dum da dum dum... dum da dum dum dum.....

So here I was engaged, mind you, I was not wearing the ring I had picked out, nor had I been proposed to in the manner which I had wanted. I had a friend, one of the teachers at the theatre, who was a few years older than me and married. She told me that if you don't get proposed to in the way you want, and he knows, say no and don't look back. It should have triggered something in my brain, when he proposed to me and before yes or no, this particular thought ran through my head, but, I was a child and I had never been proposed to before, and I wasn't even sure that "no" was an option. So, finally, I just buckled down and did it. I emailed my Scottish guy and told him the news.
To be completely honest, I knew even then whether or not I was actually going to make it to the alter, and I think my email to him went something like this:
Dear Scottish guy,
I don't know if you have heard or not, and hopefully you haven't, but I have something to share with you. You know that I have been on again off again with my boyfriend for awhile now, and I wanted to let you know that he has proposed to me and I have said yes. To be honest with you, I am not even sure we will ever make it to the alter, because it seems that once you have a ring on your finger, you have a million more little details to fight about. I wanted to tell you so that you are not surprised when you get here. I am still very much looking forward to your visit and I can't wait to see you. Please don't hate me and know that a part of my heart will always love you.
Love Always,
XOXO,
Shanna
Like I said, I am not sure I remembered the email verbatum, but it is definitely close. He emailed me back and told me that no, he didn't know, but if that was what I truly wanted, then he was happy for me and he would always love me too.
Now, you are probably asking yourself... why the hell didn't you just end things then? Why when I had this amazing Scottish guy telling me he would always love me, a guy who loved theater, wanted me to pursue it and didn't expect me to teach Sunday School and cover my tattoos, why would I still be engaged to Mississippi man. I have no idea.... except that I knew no one thought it was a good idea. Ugh!!!!! the things we do just to be a tiny little bit rebelious. You are also probably wondering, did Mississippi man know about Scottish guy. Absolutely not, are you kidding me? I told Scottish guy everything, and Mississippi man didn't have a clue. Say la Vie! Until tomorrow, my friends.

I've made my bed, now I must lie in it

Let me begin by saying that everyone, including my ever supporting parents wondered what the hell I was doing. "Really," they asked, "can you really be that lonely?" The answer was yes. I got back together with him and we were on and off for awhile. We broke up and got back together three times, including the first one at the beginning of that summer.
My Scottish guy and I continued to send packages, and write letters, but there seemed to be a constant unspoken strain, or maybe that thought just helped me sleep at night. For my 20th birthday, he sent me a picture of himself, (not vain, cute), in a kilt. It was preserved inside a talking picture frame where he had recorded himself saying, in a rogue Scottish accent, "Hi Shanna. I'm sorry I can't be with you on your birthday. I love you. Happy birthday." My mom, who knew the second she met him on that Memphis, October night, that he was the one, gave my Scottish guy a place of honor on the mantle above the fireplace in the midst of senior pictures and graduations. Imagine having to explain that to your on again off again boyfriend who wasn't even framed anywhere in the house. Now, he was a good guy and my parents liked him, I think, but deep down they knew he just wasn't the one, and if they had pushed that on me, I would have run off and married him, so they kept quiet and only talked about it amongst themselves.
Eventually my Mississippi youth minister proposed to me and I said yes. I know, I know... I wasn't in love with him, and no offense if he happens to be reading this, but I still stand by the theory that I was somehow brainwashed. The college we attended was small, rural, and a haven for men like him to find wives, and girls not like me to find husbands, just like their daddies. I was not one of those girls and this was not going to be a happily ever after.
A couple of months before he popped the question, my Scottish guy had planned a trip to Memphis at the beginning of August. He was not going to stay with me, but we were definitely going to hang out. What to do? Well, I was working at the theatre the summer after my sophomore year, and all anyone could talk about was my pending marriage. Or, in many cases my pending divorce. The proposal had happened at the beginning of July, and I still had three weeks before my teaching ended, and four weeks before my Scottish guy came to visit. One day while I was teaching, my sweet friend who had been to Scotland with me the previous summer came up to me while I was on my break.
"Have you told him yet," she asked so sweetly that I knew she wasn't being malicious. "If you're really in love, he'll understand, but make sure."
I was amazed at the knowledge that came from a sweet, sixteen year old kid. She was right, I should tell him... or looking back now, maybe that wasn't what she was saying at all. Perhaps, what she meant was "Please don't get married. You're not in love with him. You are in love with your Scottish guy." I am still shocked that a sixteen year old knew something, that I would be trying for years to make better. So, me being me, and not willing to back down just yet from a bad decision that I was standing by because it was mine and mine alone, I decided to tell him, and that is a story of its own, so once again I must leave you biting your nails and hoping that I didn't actually get married to the Mississippi man.

Everyone makes mistakes, right?

So now that I have kept you all on the edge of your seats, and I am sure everyone is dying to know what my stupid thing was, just please remember that everyone makes mistakes. Yes, even little ole me. I would just like to remind everyone that I was devastatingly heart broken, and heart break sometimes makes people do crazy things. I went back to my college after the Scottish clan left Memphis and that's when it happened. I was lonely and I wanted someone next to me. My heart was broken and I wanted to feel loved again. Though my Scottish guy and I were still speaking, and still emailing and sending letters, I had convinced myself that I could never be with him. There was an ocean in between us after all. So, I took the plunge. The kind where you close your eyes and hope to God you don't break your neck on the bottom.
I got back together with my college, freshman year boyfriend. We had dated for the entire second semester freshman year and I had broken up with him at the beginning of the summer. Its a good thing too, because I might have acted differently while in Scotland and not have the amazing memories that I have.
I wasn't in love with him and everyone knew it, but I needed someone to love me, and at the time he tried his very best. I didn't even have the courage to tell my Scottish guy that I was seeing someone... I was a coward. My soon to be exroommate found him on AIM and told him... without even discussing it with me. That took me a very long time to forgive... and I might still be a little bitter.
But, the damage was done and I got an email from Scotland, telling me that I was a coward, and not the girl he thought I was. In my defense, I didn't consider it cheating because I wasn't even sure we were together, especially after he told me that his friends told him not to ask me to marry him. I know at this point, you probably all think I am a horrible person... but please let me continue... and I ask that you all bear with me, because unfortunately, it gets worse before it gets better. I must leave you once again with tears streaming down my face, and a twinge of a broken heart. Until tomorrow, my friends... at least... I hope you are still my friends.

Home is not always where the heart is...

After the longest two days of my life, after exhausting all of my tears, and being stuck in Amsterdam for nine hours, and then being rerouted to Minneapolis and having to spend the night there, after having used all of our free airport food passes, and wondering where on earth our luggage possibly was, we made it. We were all, tired, cranky, dirty, and most of us were ready to be there. Was I glad to see my family? Sure. Was I glad to be off that damn plane? Absolutely. Did I want to jump back on it the second I got off. Undeniably, yes.
But, I was home. I was back in the land of no happily ever afters. The real world, my friends, is a cruel, heart breaking town. The second I got home, I rushed to my computer, heard those three little words, "you've got mail," and I cried for the zillionth time in two days. He had already emailed me three times telling me how much he missed me and loved me and how beautiful I was and I couldn't wait to talk to him. I only had to wait 2.5 months and then I would see him again. All I had to do was be content until then. Sounds easy, right? Well, its not. We emailed everyday and talked on AOL instant messenger. We wrote each other letters, and sent each other packages. He sent me a Darius CD and told me the song "Colourblind" made him think of me everyday. Even to this day when I play that song, I am back in Scotland and I am in love.
The time actually passed very quickly and before I knew it, it was time for him to be with me. I was in my sophomore year of college and I couldn't make it to the airport. But, I came down and hung out with him as much as I possibly could while he was in town. I helped backstage at the show, and I spent every second with him that I could. At the going away party for the Scottish clan, it was just as it had been in Scotland. We danced, kissed, cuddled, and nothing else mattered. He told me that he had been planning to ask me to marry him, but everyone convinced him not to. My heart almost stopped beating when I heard this. Of course I would marry him, how dare they tell him not to ask me. Yes, it would have been hard, and no, I probably wouldn't have finished college, but hey I'm a waitress, you don't really need a college degree for that. I felt as if I had just been given the Dementor's kiss and I would never be cheerful again.
They left to go back to Scotland, and once again I was heartbroken, sad, and lonely. And then I did something stupid. Really really stupid, and to this day I have not quite gotten over it.

A long sad goodbye

You know those stories that always seem to turn airports into the most romantic places in the world. You know, girl gets on plane, boy calls girl and tells her not to get on the plane, she gets off the plane and runs into him because he has just paid $1000 dollars for a first class ticket. They kiss and hug and watch the plane take off, and live happily ever after.
Well, unfortunately, this is not that story.
The next morning, after hastily packing my stuff, and lying on my bed, not able to sleep, it was time to go. I exited the dorm wearing my "traveling clothes" and carrying my bags. My eyes were puffy and red and I was fit to be tied. The only person I wanted to see was him, and he was there the second I walked out, holding a rose. He grabbed my bags and we got on the bus that was to take us from Dundee to the Edinburgh airport.
Now, before I tell you what really happened, I will tell what would have happened if I, 26, could get back up and do it all over again. I probably would have gotten on the plane. I might have cried for a minute, and then when one of the moms on our trip leaned over to me and said "you're 19 and if I was 19 you bet your ass I'd stay," I would have jumped up, possibly grabbed my carry on if I thought about it, and gotten my ass off that plane, and had my happily ever after.
However, the title of this episode is not "happily ever after". It is "long sad goodbye," so here is how it really went down. And trust me, I have spent the last seven and a half years wishing I had done it differently.
We got to the airport and since 9-11 no one without a ticket has been able to go through security, so that was where we were forced to say goodbye. Everyone said their goodbyes and he and I were huddled in the back just holding each other. I was crying, he was was crying, and eventually a lot of other poeple started crying. One of the wonderful mothers, the one I spoke of earlier, finally pulled me away from him, and let me just say that my crying turned into whailing and the poor woman at the security gate probably thought I was being kidnapped and taken against my will. Even she had tears in her eyes, and to be honest I don't even remember putting my bag down, I think I just walked through the metal detector holding it and no one said a word. We boarded the plane and I was seated next to my vacation mom. She put her arm around me and whispered "Stay if you want, you're 19 and if I was 19, you bet your ass I'd stay."
I am not sure if I even processed what she was saying, or if I just mumbled something about my parents and college. I don't know, but for some reason, I didn't get off the plane. I should have, but I didn't. I can't tell you how long the flight is from Edinburgh to Amsterdam, or what they served on that flight or even what I was wearing that day. All I can tell you is that I balled my eyes out until about halfway through it and then I eventually cried myself to sleep and woke up when it was time to get off the plane in Amsterdam, with a stuffy nose, puffy eyes, and a broken heart.
There is my goodbye. It certainly wasn't a Hollywood ending, but the story doesn't end there. Stay tuned, if anyone's listening. Seeing as though I am balling my eyes out right now, I might take tomorrow off, but I doubt it.

The beginning comes to a close

I have to begin by stating that nobody likes goodbyes. Goodbyes are tragic and sad. Most of the time there is no certainty that you will see the other person again. This time, however, I knew I would see him again in 2 and a half months. I just had to survive two and a half little tiny months.
I left off yesterday with my Scottish guy and I finally saying those three little words. Afterwards, we walked back to my dorm, holding hands in a solomn silence. This was it, in less than 24 hours, we would have to say goodbye, and neither of us was prepared for that. We got back to the dorm, he sat down and pulled me into his lap. We sat there until the wee hours of the morning, just simply being together and not wanting to part. I started to cry and laid my head on his shoulder so he couldn't see my tears. From nowhere, I heard him say "promise me you won't cry at the airport." I looked up at him with tears streaming down my face to find that he had the same tears streaming down his. "I never make I promise I don't intend to keep," I whispered. He kissed me and held me close until it was almost time for the sun to rise. I still had not packed a thing, and the time came when he told me I had to go inside. At that moment, all I wanted to do was grab my stuff and run off together, but at least one of us knew that was probably a bad idea and it wasn't me. We are now 5 hours from leaving for the airport, and I know everyone is on the edge of their seat, so for now I will leave you, and tomorrow we will take the journey home.

Nearing the end of the beginning...

As sad as it is, our time togther was nearing an end. I knew I would see him again in 2.5 months when they came to Memphis to reopen the show on our turf, but the mere thought of leaving him was heartbreaking. The show opened and everything went smoothly. Between opening night and Closing night, we spent as much time together as possible. We went back to the park and played on the swingsets. I took him to The Tartan Shop, a souvenier shop, because he had never actually been inside it, and we would stay out very late and walk, talk and kiss. On closing night he brought me a red rose and sweet as it was, it was like the kiss of death, because it meant our time was almost over. The final curtain had fallen and all we had left was a rocking going away party and a trip to the airport. The night of the going away party came, and even though I was terribly sad, I spent a good portion of the day getting ready with the help of my female teenage friends. I wanted to wear an outfit that was not only classy, but memorable.
I don't know why I was worried. From the second I stepped off that train, he only had eyes for me, and the same proved true at our party. I walked in, our my eyes met, and we were inseparable for the rest of the night. We drank champagne, danced, and spent the entire evening trying to force ourselves to mingle. As the party began to die down, and everyone began to trickle either home or back to the dorm to finish packing, we slow danced until it was very obvious that it was time to leave. We sat down in a corner so that I could put my shoes back on, and he put his hand on my face, whispered "I love you" for the first time and leaned in and kissed me. I was 19 years old and this was my first and only one to date "Fireworks Kiss." As he kissed me I swear that fireworks were going off above my head. When the best kiss I have ever had in my entire life was finished, I said "I love you, too." And I meant it with every ounce of my soul.

Not Quite the Middle

Now, where did I leave off? Oh yes, a goodnight kiss. Well, let me just say that kiss sealed the deal for me. I was in love and no one could tell me differently. The next day we went to the highland games in Montrose. It was cold and rainy and the most beautiful day I had ever experienced. As we sat watching men in kilts throw logs and other burly games, he gently picked up my hand and we sat holding hands. We sat until his friends called him away and all of the teenage girls I had come to Scotland with crowded around me, giggling and begging for details. I told them about the night before and that I was in love with him. Suddenly I felt as if I were 14 again and all was right with the world. He came back about 30 minutes later and told me that his friends had been asking him the same questions, and they thought he was crazy. Maybe we were, but we were in love.
About ten of us decided to go and explore and he and some of his friends led us out of the games and to the beach. Now this was not a beach you would go to for sunbathing. It was rocky, windy, and about 40 degrees outside. The water was freezing, but I took off my shoes, rolled up my pants, and waded in it, because how often does one get to do that in a secluded part of the ocean in Scotland with a boy that they love. Before running off to slide down sand dunes with the boys, he threw a handfull of sand at me, chased me until I fell, kissed me on the beach in the freezing cold, in front of everyone, handed me his jacket, and called me "Titch." I found out later that "Titch" means "wee one" and considering that he is a foot taller than me, I was flattered at my new nickname.
You know in the movie Elf, when Will Ferrell as Buddy runs into his dad's office and shouts, "I'm in Love. I'm in Love. I'm in Love, and I don't care who knows it." That is the only way to describe how I felt about this boy.
Once we were back at the Games, he bought me a flower from a cart and it was the best gift I had ever recieved. When I got back to the dorms that evening, I called my parents. My father answered the phone and I said "Daddy, I'm in love." He, bless his heart, said "Congratulations. Here's your mother." My mom was excited, but I think at the time the idea of 19 year old me being in love with some boy in Scotland that she had never met, absolutely terrified her. Of course, she would never tell me that.

The Beginning Cont....

So I ended with the fact that I met a handsome young Scottish boy, and today I begin with our story. He asked me if he could carry my bag, and that is where it all began. Our American group had a lot of time to mingle with these lovely Scottish people. We spent hours rehearsing for days before the show finally opened, and very quickly, every chance he and I had, we were together. I went out with him and his friends after rehearsal. We would go to a pub and just talk for hours. One night, with a backpack full of beer, we went to the park, by the water and laid down and looked at the stars. We stayed there talking until very late, and I finally laid my head on his stomach and he kissed me. He kissed me under the stars on a clear, chilly night in Scotland in a waterfront park, and it was the most romantic moment of my life. I told him that I had always wanted a star named after me, because stars are very romantic. He walked me back to my dorm, and because it was so late, he had missed the last bus and would have to walk all the way to the other end of town, but he swore it was worth it. He kissed me goodnight and said he couldn't wait to see me in the morning. I will leave you with that for today. It wouldn't be fair to tell the whole story at once, now would it.

The Beginning

When I was 19 years old (7.5 years ago), I was given the best opportunity in the world. I worked for a theater company, Playhouse on the Square in Memphis, TN . I taught acting at their summer camp to children and teenagers. A group of those teenagers were given the opportunity to go to Scotland and perform with a group of Scottish teenagers. They spent a good part of a year raising money, washing cars, selling candy bars, and being auctioned off to do common household chores. Two weeks before this motley crew was to leave for their grand adventures, there was a bus bombing in London and one one of these lucky teenager's mother decided he should stay home. Enter me. I was 19 years old and thank God I had a passport. The theatre that I had been devoted to for 7 years asked me, Shanna Riker, if I would like to go on a FREE all expensive paid trip to Scotland. In return, I would be an asssistant stage manager for the show and upon arriving home I would help Playhouse on the Square archive this fabulous adventure.
Of course I said yes, and I was off on the most fantastic adventure of my life to date. I had never been to Scotland and I still believe that is the most magical place in all the world, yes, even more magical than Disney World. We flew into London, took a train to Edinburgh, and then a bus to Dundee. From the moment that I first breathed in that Scottish air, I knew that no place in the world could compare to this one. Almost immediately, I was drawn into a conversation with a very handsome Scottish boy, also 19. This is where the story really begins, and this is where I will leave you wanting more. I have a story to tell and I will tell it, between now and Feb. 17th 2010.