Bears and Boyfriends...

When I was growing up, I had a big brown teddy bear that I used to keep on my bed. It had been there for as long as I could remember. So long in fact that I had to ask mom later on in years where I even came by that bear.

“Your Uncle Brent won it for you at a circus when you were about 3 years old. You were so young, it’s okay if you don’t remember,” mom explained.

I never remembered the circus, or my Uncle giving me the gift, but I have always remembered the bear.

It was December 2002. I was seeing a guy who I had recently fallen mad for, as love often makes you do. I remember my friend Connie telling me to be careful, watch out that I didn’t lose my senses. How was I to make any sense of it though? He’d walk into the room and I would hear violins. There was no wrong about him.

I remember being in a department store with him and with Connie. I had taken all sorts of joy in buying things I found along the way earlier that week, when he wasn’t around… expensive things, but things I knew he liked and wouldn’t treat himself to normally. I wanted for him to have those things. Connie reminded me to be rational. “Has he indicated that he’s getting anything for you,” she asked.

“Nah, he doesn’t really need to anyhow. I’m getting him the stuff because I want for him to have it. I love the guy.”

He turned to me at one point as we were checking out. I was looking overhead at the cash registers at a long string of stuffed animals with holiday bows around their necks. All of them were kind of sappy… a big sad dog with droopy ears, a white gorilla…

“So is there anything in particular you want for Christmas,” he said to me.

I grinned. Just then, looking at the procession of stuffed toys above me, my gaze came over a big black bear with a gold and maroon bow. Immediately, I remembered the bear from my childhood, and told him and Connie the story.

“I’d love to have that black bear for Christmas.”

We had already checked out. He said he’d be sure to come back by later on to get it. Connie in the meantime remained quiet, taking in all she had seen. Later on, we talked over coffee.

“I’m just concerned that guy isn’t good for you. I just see you making all sorts of sacrifices and giving so much of yourself, and he’s just skating along taking it all in. Please be careful Kevin.”

A couple of weeks passed. Excitedly, I loaded up my truck and drove out to visit. We had planned a weekend together just before the holiday and I drove several hours to meet him at his home. I arrived after dark to a quiet living room in the country. He’d put up a beautiful extravagant tree, hundreds of lights. It was amazing. We sat at the couch and talked in hushed voices in the silence, smiling and relaxing in the comfort of that evening. I brought a bag with his gifts over to where he was sitting.

I remember him opening every one, smiling, saying thank you, holding me and kissing me on the cheek. I remember the joy in his face and the feeling that at every moment the papers flew off, I had truly given him something he wanted. I loved him, I wanted him to have those things.

And then all the gifts were opened. We sat and talked. I let the tension float out of me thinking he must be trying to tease me. He blushed. “I was only able to get you a couple things, I have been so busy, and I just didn’t know what to get you.” I grinned and told him it was alright, that he didn’t need to get me anything at all, that I was just happy I could be with him. Still he returned with two small packages he pulled from behind the couch.

I wanted to remain humbled. It would’ve been perfect if he’d gotten nothing at all really. Instead, I un-wrapped two gifts from him. One was a nose hair trimmer. The other was a vibrator.

I got through that night telling myself that it didn’t matter, that what mattered was the fact that he thought of me at all. I continued to tell myself, well, maybe I really did need a nose hair trimmer after all. The vibrator, well, not really, but maybe he just misunderstood. Maybe the whole thing was just a big misunderstanding. It was just misunderstanding, right?

I drove home the next morning. 3 hours. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t devastated really. I got home, sat in my apartment and cried. I called Connie, and told her she was right. We talked for a little while and I began to feel better. She even had me laughing after a while, and asked if she could come over for a game of cribbage.

“Of course sweetheart. I love you Connie.”

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I came in from the patio to go let Connie in. When I opened the door, I found my friend… holding in her arms a big black furry bear with a gold and maroon bow.

“The people who truly love you Kevin… they pay attention. They have no choice but to adore you and want only to see you happy. I truly love you Kevin.”

That bear is on my bed every night, and has outlasted several boyfriends, to be true… and as for Connie, I know her friendship will be there even if all the bears and boyfriends fade away eventually.

I love you Connie. Thank you for paying attention.