Free Broken Hearts Damaged Goods by Jack Gunthridge

that I had ever fallen in love, but it was more intense.  I was more
alive, and it seemed more real.
    And somehow in the
following blur of events, Jack and I ended up competing against Steve and
Brittany in a game of beer pong.  I think Jack and I were winning.  I wasn’t
really paying attention to the game.  I was kind of enjoying the fact that Jack
was so amazing and that it was pissing Brittany off so much.
    And that is when I received
a sobering bitch slap.  Brittany noticed that I was wearing Jack’s ring.  Well,
it was Brittany’s ring, but Jack gave it to me.  Anyway, she still felt that
she had some sort claim to the ring, even though she turned him down.
    The game just sort of
stopped as Jack and Brittany went back and forth over the true ownership of the
ring.  Jack was firm but civil in his responses to her.  But Brittany had it in
for me.  The last thing I remember her saying was something like, “My God,
Jack.  You don’t just give a diamond ring to the first slut that will fuck
you.”  I don’t know what his response to that was.  I sort of ran off to the
bathroom and started to cry.
    Whatever his response
was, he must have finished the argument with it because he was knocking on the
bathroom door to see if I was alright.  I wanted to be alone, but I couldn’t
exactly leave him out there either.  So I opened the door and without talking
to him, I sat on the side of the bath tub.
    Jack, seeing that I
wasn’t going to talk to him about what was wrong, closed the bathroom door and
locked it.  He then sat next to me on the tub and put his arm around me.
    You can tell a lot
about a guy by what he does when you’re crying.  Some don’t know what to say,
so they just sit there in silence and hope that they are able to be comforting
enough when you are willing to start talking about it.  Others ask you if you
want to talk about it and then say that they are there for you when you do want
to talk about it.  And then there’s Jack.
    Jack is the type of guy
who sits there quietly for a minute, holds you while you cry, and doesn’t ask
if you want to talk about it.  Instead he breaks the awkward silence with, “Do
you know the other night when I said you were beautiful?  You become more
beautiful the more time I spend with you.”
    And as I started to cry
even more at words that I didn’t exactly want to hear at that moment, he
continued, “The night I gave you that ring, I was lost, hurt, and lonely.  My
world had come to an end.  You were there for me, opened your home up to me,
and kept me from doing things I would later regret.  And it may not seem like
much to you, but your simple acts of kindness probably saved my life that night
and for the next few days after.”
    Hearing him admit that
he was suicidal made my being called a slut seem not so important, so I looked
at him as he went on, “You may not believe it, but I think I gave that ring to
the right girl.”
    He then kissed me on
the forehead and held me just a little tighter.  And I wanted to say something,
but I didn’t quite know what to say.  We ended up looking in each other’s
eyes.  And there was that moment where you think you’re going to kiss each
other.  It would have been a kiss that would have meant something.
    But before we could
maneuver into the kiss, there was a knock at the door.  Some drunk guy had to
pee.  He just kept knocking and yelling, “Come on.  Hurry up in there.  I’ve
got to piss like a mother fucker.”
    I looked at Jack and
was horrified.  I couldn’t go out there and have everybody know that I was
crying, but I didn’t know how to tell Jack that.  Anyway, there was no way to
stop him.  Before I could say anything, Jack was up next to the door and
pounding against it as if he was having sex.  “Just a minute, Dude.  I’ve got a
girl in here, and I can’t stop now.”
    Before I could bust out
laughing, Jack motioned for me to be quiet.  He then just continued to bang