Breaking up is hard to do

Travelin'Oma week 9, day 1. Read here, and you'll understand more where this came from.

Ever sent a letter that I regret? No.

Ever say something that I regret? More times than there are stars in the sky.

I started dating my first boyfriend the summer before I went to BYU. One day we had this conversation:

Him: I really admire you for going through with this

Me: With what?

Him: Going to BYU

Me (incredulously): Why in the world wouldn’t I go to BYU?!?

I belatedly realized he might want me to stick around. What I thought, but didn’t say (for once), was, “In your dreams I would stay here – I’ve waited too long for this opportunity.”

He was invited to drive with me and my parents to drop me off at BYU. My future husband Ray also came along – he happened to need a ride (at that time there was not remotely a romantic relationship between me and Ray). We stopped for the night in Las Vegas. My parents and I slept in the motor home, and the boys slept outside. The boyfriend said to Ray, “Take care of Diane for me, okay?” Ray said he’d be happy to oblige.

The rest is history. Ray and I started hanging out, then dating, then spending all our time together. After a month it was obvious the old boyfriend was on the outs, and Ray was in to stay. I had to call and break it off with the “boyfriend.” I was so anxious that I had to get it over with quickly. Here’s how the conversation began:

Me: Hi. I have bad news. It’s about you and me.

It all went downhill (for him) from there. I know it was brutal, but it was done!

Diane and Ray, Fall 1975