Brians, Bobs, and Brans – Oh My!

My life has been full of loves come and gone. Weirdly there is something many of them have in common—names that begin with the letter “B.” I don’t know what it is about the second letter of the alphabet, but it always gets the best of me.

Brad was my first real boyfriend. He drove a Ford Ranchero (the front was like a car, the back was like a truck…) and had a mullet. We were so cool and codependent. Young love can be so deep.

Robert (aka Bob) was my first true love. He was a beautiful enigma. My husband. My first baby daddy. We would put pennies on the railroad track. He could dance—oh how we danced. He saved me. I prayed daily we would never end. We did. I thought I would die. Part of me did.

Brian #1 took me away from home. His family was immoral and threatening. Because of him, I learned to stand on my own.

Branson (aka Bo) was my second true love. The most memorable, world-stopping kiss I ever had. The one I kept coming back to. The one I waited for. The one that could never find the right timing. I never thought I would love again. We sang at the top of our lungs, fought like the world was ending, and loved so much it hurt. Rock on, Bo.

Brian #2 was a fine specimen. Due to a persistent friend, I had just had a past-life reading that said I had been a sailor’s wife with a husband who never returned from the sea. I was told I was “still mourning.” That very night, I went to a Halloween party and saw Brian #2 in the kitchen where he looked me in the eyes and said, “I’m a sailor.” He actually was—a Merchant Marine to be exact. I guess the universe saw fit to let me finish that past life finally, if such things exist. My sailor had returned. After 8 great months, he told me he “got back together” with his ex-wife. They had another baby then divorced again. He still calls from time-to-time. Better than lost at sea I guess.

Brian #3 was a Pedophile Lite. Luckily, I found out sooner than later. I couldn’t get away fast enough.

Brian #4 went out of town for work, bought me a plane ticket to visit him, and I fell for someone else before the trip. Man was I fickle. I still need to pay him back for that ticket.

Brannon is my debonaire and handsome true love of the past decade. Our meeting was serendipitous. He is the yin to my yang. The Ricky to my Lucy. Without him, my life would lack adventure, sarcasm, and great joy. With him, everything feels possible. Hey Love, meet me in Montauk.