Oh trust me, I've always been quite the advocate of common cliches and metaphors. I spout them out more than a whale spouts water. I'll tell people to "bite the bullet" or "stop and smell the roses," but I've never really had to apply one of my precious sayings to my own life when the situation required such.
Then, ... summer 2009 happened. Let's just say, in the past three months, I could open a freakin' lemonade monopoly. Yeah, thanks for that Life.
I graduated high school in mid-May, just like most high school seniors. I'm going to the college of my dreams in August, so I know the anticipation will be building all summer long. I spend most of June requesting a first semester schedule, filling out multiple college forms, and searching Facebook trying to find other future classmates. All typical graduate experiences right? Sure.
But, in the next month my boyfriend of a year moves all the way across the country, I make the dumbest decision of my life (which is not drinking a gallon of beer and getting caught by my parents, believe it or not), spend ten painful days in "the Happiest Place on Earth", make one emergency trip to the clinic in Orlando (while almost getting mugged in the parking lot), get diagnosed with a virus, am hospitalized twice because of this disease... oh yeah, and I have to pack for college.
Take that for lemons.
Let's start at the beginning ... I've known my boyfriend for two years, but we started dating at the beginning of this year. Since September, I've never gone longer than four days without seeing him, sometimes this requires leaving a vacation early and catching a flight home so we can end up unexpectedly on the other's doorstep.
Anyways, eleven months ago today, we started dating. One month ago today, he left to move across the country to pursue his dream.
And that's really where my problems begin.
Fourth of July weekend, the two of us go to the lake to spend the day together before I leave for a ten day vacation with my cousins (for those of you who don't know... this is a looooooong time). He begged me not to go on this vacation. I went anyways, only to find out on the way there, he is moving two weeks earlier than planned - leaving us four days together when I return. Needless to say, we're both a mess, not to mention he's mad (unfairly) at me... a fight which escalades in front of "Aladdin's Magic Carpets" in Magic Kingdom.
I suck it up and put on a good face for my cousins, when in reality, I'm definitely not feeling the magic. Sleeping with my cousin is like sleeping with a karate fighter... I ended up on the floor every night. It rains every single day. I start peeing blood, have to convince my aunt that no it is NOT my period, am reluctantly driven to the clinic where I'm diagnosed with a UTI and am told that if i waited one more day, would have been put in the hospital. Still, we stay out until two every morning, me in pain, but refusing to complain... because trust me, having to hear it from then would be exponentially worse. Unfortunately from all of this, my boyfriend's mom accurately guesses the source of my mishap... yeah.
The Lemons: don't go to Disney for eight days
The Lemonade: if you do, bring a blow up mattress, a gallon of cranberry juice, and an umbrella.
A week before he left, I had my run in with the gallon of Bud Light... graciously escaping the police on the way home, but mercilessly running into Mom on the way through the door. I might have preferred the police.
The Lemons: if your friends suggest going to help your other friend clean up the bar where she works after closing, don't go.
The Lemonade: if you do, make sure you have breathmints or gum and perfume in your purse, and take a shower as soon as you get home... because your mom can still smell it on you, even if your in bed and not slurring your words...bad.
Two days after he left, I made the worst decision of my life... which I will NOT go into at this time. It requires a whole different post of its own.
The Lemons: I was totally unwillingly and unexpectedly taken advantage of by an ex-flame, thought to be friend, after he made me upset and vulnerable about my boyfriend leaving.
The Lemonade: I see him for the jerk that he is and always has been.
Two weeks later, I'm diagnosed with a virus, go through multiple surgeries, and have to tell my parents the truth about my relationship.
The Lemons: i'm forced to have a "come to Jesus" meeting with my boyfriend about his faithfulness (which is proven true thank goodness)
The Lemonade: an acquired trust with my mom, and the knowledge that when the tv commercials say "will not prevent against all types... and may not fully protect everyone" those odds are a lot worse than they let on.
So that's my summer thus far in a nutshell. Just a short glimpse into the torrential rain of lemons, the bruises which result, but the lemonade which is the ultimate goal.
I move into my dorm on Friday... a whole new opportunity for life's lemons to come hurling at me. But after this summer... I've learned how to make lemonade. I think I can handle it.
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