R I an idiot?

There’s a pattern here. Really, there is.

My first ‘love’, my first “uh huh”… Her name was __RI.

__RI was fun, giggly, full of smiles. Damn pretty (to me anyways.). I was addicted to her eyes, her laugh, her walk. She had a gRIp on me.

Dated in and outta momentary breakups all thru High School. Did the Proms, The Courtwarmings, The dRIve inns. __RI and I were split up due to college. I’d dRIve home every weekend to see her… Sometimes, I’d even dRIve two hours each way in the middle of the week to see her. I blame __RI for my 1.65 GPA that first semester!

One day, __RI moved away - and that was the last of Victor and __RI.

Transferred home to go to college. Shortly thereafter, met __RI__. There’s a pattern here. Third letter R, fourth letter I. __RI__ was also fun. She was a tiny thing, yet rode a motorcycle, drove heap big school bus, and did just about every other thing society said a woman wasn’t supposed to do - and I fell in love with that.

__RI__ and I dated for several years. She even played basketball for me when I coached at the small college we went to together. All our fRIends were getting married… College was ending - time for the real world. Hey __RI__, wanna get married? K. So we did.

Bigass wedding. Some real nice tRIps to different places. We’d wRIte love notes and put ‘em in each other’s lunches.. We had heap big parties.. We did my family, her family.

Then…. I worked days, she worked nights. The gRIp we had was lessening. We’d visit for the hour of the day we had. One night, it all came down, peacefully, amicably. In a millisecond, Victor and __RI__ were over. Seven YeaRItch I think they called it.

In the short span after __RI, and between __RI__ and ‘the RI-bound”.. I played softball. And more softball. It took the two pRI-vious RI’s off my brain. I was playing three nights a week, umpiRIng women’s softball the other two nights. “Yes, I’d like to umpire, but all I wanna do is women’s games.” And tourneys on weekends. It was during this time I finally learned howinthehell to do laundry the RIght way. I hadta. College, who cared about wRInkles in clothes. I was an adult now. (Chronologically anyways.)

RI-bounded with __RI____. Yes, third letter R, fourth letter I. There’s a pattern here. The gRIp was quick. In shortime, living together. Tiny lady she was/is. To me, __RI___ was the prettiest lady I’d ever been with. I got lost in her natural beauty. I’d simply sit and stare as she slept, bathed, did whatever. Smitten. RI-eally I was.

We RI-produced in 1985. Twenty years with __RI___. Eighteen wonderful, one and a half not bad.. ½ RI-eally bad. That look she once gave me - gone. Ne’er again. She would give it to others - and I knew it wasn’t with intent a want of hers to go - but the feel of not being on the receiving end of that look was unbearable. Then, one day, I guess she followed the look she was giving, and she rode off on a Harley, ne’er to return.

So, here I sit… Wondering… Waiting for “HEY, you look like my 3rd wife.” Oh yeah, how many times you been married? Twice.

Please, steer clear if your name is apRIl. caRIna, jeRI, loRI, saRIna, etc. I’ve got a gRIp on that finally. RIght Victor, sure you do.

Hey… let life RIp. Take TRips. Enjoy the tRIals and tRIbulations. Life’s quite a RIde.

I R the expert. RIght? Love, Victurd.