People I Love, vol. Ex-Boyfriend

Sean David Summers was my boyfriend for most of my freshman year of college.  Naturally he was not a freshman because no self-respecting freshman girl dates a freshman boy.  Junior boys are ideal for freshman girls, and that's what Sean was.  My first year of college I went to a really small college, and I was in the Honors program.  I know, I know.  Anyway, Sean was, too, and we met at this Honors meet-and-greet at the beginning of the year, and it was like love at first sight, primarily because we were the only two who were obviously thinking, "Dude, this is gay."  We started dating, more or less, a few weeks after that.

Sean, baby, this is for you.

Sean, who told the assembled Honors group at that meet-and-greet (when asked, as we all were, while seated in a circle of course, "What would you be if you were an article of clothing?") that he would be a belt loop, startling most of the group into embarrassed silence.

Sean, who replied to my question, "Why haven't you tried to kiss me yet?", with "I lack initiative."

Sean, who took me to the Texas Stonehenge for our first date.

Sean, who was the only person I had ever known who had two monitors attached to one CPU, and actually would go back and forth between them.  It was freaky.

Sean, who tried desperately to teach me how to use Polish notation for logic because he felt it was so much more elegant than the usual Russellian notation.  I have stubbornly stuck with Russellian, just to spite you, Sean.

Sean, who had his own computer consulting business and once went to fix a bank's computer system while under the rather strong influence of LSD.  He insisted I accompany him to the bank to ensure that nothing went awry.  Nothing did.  He fixed their computers, despite the little green men.

Sean, who was from Louisiana and actually knew the McIlhenny family. 

Sean, who looked alarmingly like Home Alone-era Macaulay Culkin and therefore, at age 21, still got carded to buy cigarettes.

Sean, who introduced me to the sonic merriment of Kraftwerk and the various joys of the Bonham Exchange. 

Sean, who explained Leibniz to me one night at a dorm dance neither of us wanted to be at.  I think Leibniz was his idea of romantic.

Sean, who sometimes smoked clove cigarettes despite the fact that they made his tongue bleed.

Sean, who also introduced me to the myriad joys of Jagermeister.

Sean, who was the first person to point out to me that my roommate was trying to model herself after me as much as possible.  This was pre-Single White Female, and I didn't notice that that was what she was doing, but upon closer examination, he was right.

Sean, who taught me how to do that thing.  That thing that several men have later been very thankful for.

Sean, who was engaged to a rather stupid girl who still lived in Louisiana.  I didn't know about her until she came for a surprise visit.  Her abrupt appearance prompted Sean's roommate to say, "Don't worry.  You can be my girlfriend today" presumably at me.  Sean's roommate had a glass eye and smoked pot all day long.

Sean, baby, thanks for showing me a great time.  Miss you sometimes and no regrets.  Wherever you are, I hope you're happy and well.