Two Wrongs Make a Bigger Wrong

On one of the few occasions I did go out, I met up with a guy that worked at the gym.

He had a whole crew of people with him, one of whom was an aerobics instructor from the gym, named Cheryl.
Cheryl was an attractive girl, athletic body, kind of a Witchie-Poo facial structure. Larger than average nose and a pointy chin.

When I met her (back when I was in a happier place), I thought she was a mess.

She had grown up in central Florida, lower middle class in a hyper-wealthy world. Her dad had skipped out before she was born. She freely admitted to purposely dating above her station for the benefits of fancy dinners, nice gifts, all the things that come from dating guys with wealthy parents.
Once in college, she had to work for a living. She mainly dated frat guys that drove Daddy's car and lived on Daddy's dime.

I didn't think much of her when we first met. I thought she was kinda pathetic.

Now, I thought she was pretty together.

Compared to me, she was.

We started dating.

SHE got to meet the folks. SHE came to the family functions. SHE moved in with me.

She, not being a particularly good student, failed out of college.
I was just a hopeless drunk, and I also flunked out.

She had an opportunity to go to a radiology tech trade school in central Florida, where she could live with her mom.

I did what any broken, drunk, rudderless guy would have done in that situation.

I asked her to marry me.



She accepted, but she still left for trade school. Before she did, she suggested that I put her on my credit, since we were going to get married.

Not long after, she was gone, literally.
So was the ring.
So was 30K in credit.

There was no trade school in central Florida.

A little research showed that it was in Jacksonville. After I found that out, I didn't even bother going to find her.

No explanation was needed.

I deserved this.