Once upon a time I was a love-hungry maneater

Yes, went through over four dozen, but I was on the quest for love.

After boyfriend number 53, I decided to stop keeping track.  

     In my defense, that number does include my elementary sweethearts.  The way I see it, even though me and Bobby Well’s relationship only consisted of waving/smiling at each other, occasionally sitting together, and claiming to be one another’s boyfriend/girlfriend, since I was emotionally invested, he counts as a boyfriend.  So when we broke up in second grade, I experienced my first heart-break.  Sure, when he dumped me out in the hallway in front of his friends I acted like I didn’t care, but I’m pretty sure I cried over it.  

That cute, blue-eyed, light brown-haired booger eater wasn’t just a heart breaker, but he had now become a  creator of one.  I went on to be the girlfriend of fellow classmate, Rodrick Brown, then  I moved on to Jaime Perez and when he got old, Zachary Stein.  After Zachary, I would become the most controversial second grader in Madie Ives Elementary school.

My grandma became somewhat of a gypsy after my mom’s stepfather died.  She had moved from Tampa and then made several other moves in Miami, one of them being two minutes away from my house in a dingy complex.  After befriending a neighbor, she practically became a nanny for the woman’s three kids and one of those kids was a handsome little Colombian who I discovered went to my school.  Me and Andres became boyfriend and girlfriend, and I made sure everyone knew I was dating a fourth grader.  

I really liked Andres…before we started going out.  New was becoming old quite rapidly for me in the area of relationships.  Maybe my standards were too high:  I had watched every Disney princess movie and decided I was Aurora and needed a Prince Philip.  And let’s face it,  finding a Prince Philip–the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, someone who would romance you the moment they met you, and then risk their life to save you–in elementary school is a difficult feat.  But I didn’t see it that way.

Ironically, I began liking Andres again two years later, and in my fourth grade year, I had my first kiss.  Yes.  By fourth grade I had made out with a boy.  My best friend at the time had just been dared to tongue-kiss him, and I got jealous so I had my older sister dare us to french kiss.  (I promise you, she’s a changed woman).  We never went back out (I don’t remember at least:  if we did it was short-lived), because my like for him quickly dissolved again after other boys caught my eye.  

When fifth grade hit, I was already the most popular girl in school.  By this point I had gone through maybe twelve boyfriends or so, but by the end of the year I’d break that record.  I had a grand total of sixteen boyfriends in my fifth grade year alone.  You can say I had a new one almost every week.  My, did knowing I can have pretty much any guy I wanted blow my head up bigger than a hot air balloon.  But little did I know that in sixth grade, that balloon would explode.  

I dated this adorable little Puerto-Rican boy, Juan, who ended up falling in puppy-love with me.  I mean this boy was stuck on me even after he moved to Port Saint Lucy two years later.  But when I went to middle school and met his older brother, Jean, I had to have him.  And I did… for a week and a half.

Apparently, when he and his brother came to my birthday party, he really had a thing for my best friend’s cousin, but she didn’t feel the same.  Since he thought I was pretty and knew I was into him, he rebounded to me.  I had received my second plate of heart-break, but this time, I got a bad case of heart burn.  I would listen to Usher’s “You got it bad” and cry like a baby for two years.   

I won’t get into detail about the other middle school heart-breakers, Fernando and Brian, because I think by now the cycle is obvious.  

Ninth grade year was the same thing:  Heart break hotel with Rodrigo.  And then tenth grade arrived.  That’s when I met Chris.  My deep care for Chris was unlike any of my past crushes.  It was this infatuation I couldn’t shake until senior year.  Every time I saw him my heart would flutter, even if it had been months since the last time I’d seen him; his glistening brown puppy dog eyes, thick pink lips, soft skin.  And we were so alike (thanks to a three-hour conversation, his best friend Landon, and MySpace, I knew our common interests were undeniable).  I went after him, but my pursuit totally failed.  He had found Christina, and she was giving him something I wasn’t willing to.  A word of advice:  sex can only keep a guy for so long.  

By the beginning of my Senior year he had dumped Christina, and what I viewed as destiny at the time led us back into each other’s lives.  Landon’s birthday party two years before was when I found out the heart wrenching news of Chris and Christina (first hand).  But this year she was gone, and my opportunity to snag Chris had reemerged.  I didn’t hesitate.  That night I gave him my number.  The next weekend I had the best kiss of my life (up until that point).  Life was great.  It was finally looking like I may soon get my Prince Philip.  Until he went Houdini on me.  

I discovered a little over a week later that he had started dating a Freshman from my school.  A promiscuous one at that.  The sex issue had resurfaced.  Although I had my share of boyfriends, I never went all the way with any of them, and Chris was well aware of this fact.  

To make a long story short: again, sex can only keep a guy for so long.  A month or two later they broke up, and he reconnected with me on New Years, and on January 15th, 2008, I was finally Chris’s girlfriend. I was in heaven…for the first week.  

He started disappearing again until finally, I tracked him down on Valentine’s day, and he confessed that he couldn’t be in a relationship. I was devastated.  I lost six pounds in two weeks and started drinking the pain away with friends.  I wasn’t happy, at all.  But I finally snapped out of it when I met Dace.

Dace was the acrobatics teacher at the dance studio I taught musical theatre at.  I didn’t think much of him until we got the chance to hang out through a mutual friend (a friend that was trying to get with me).  I ended up almost instantly forgetting about Chris.  Two months later Dace asked me out on prom night.  I thought I loved Chris, but if I loved him, I don’t even know what to call what I felt for Dace.

My feelings for this mysterious, intelligent, handsome, metal-head had brought me to the point where I finally wanted to lose my virginity.  And I tried to–three times–but each time something got in the way.  Ever heard the term “divine intervention”?  Well, I knew it was divine.  For some reason, the Man upstairs did not want me to lose it to Dace, and I would soon find out why.

I wanted Dace to be the one.  I loved him more than anything.  But God had something different in mind.   Very different.

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Daughter of the King, married to a prince. Writer, actress, and my husband's side-kick filmmaker.

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