And it Will Feel Like Truth — Day Five
Well hello. Are you new here? I'm currently sharing pieces of my memoir every day. You can go here to read from day one.
There are some stories where in order to move forward, you need to first take a step back. Start at the beginning. Remember the moments. Give them their due.
This is what always happens when I share the story about Russ.
.::.
I sit at a table with my friend, wrestling through the revelation I learned the night before while talking with the boyfriend. This is freshman year. We’re months into our relationship at that point, new and fresh and totally absorbed in one another. He got me a ring for Christmas by that point. I had told him, with heart beating out of my chest, that I loved him. He responded by laughing.
“Elora, I wanna climb up on the rooftops and shout it out for everyone in Oklahoma. I love you too. I’ve known since I put that ring on your finger at Christmas.”
The night before though, we have one of our no-judgment-talks where we share every piece of information about ourselves we can think of without fear that the other person would freak out. It’s our safety zone. What’s said in those conversations are held in confidence that we won’t renege on our agreement to accept each other at all cost.
He says he needs to tell me something, and I think nothing about it. Was it another story about growing up watching his father deal drugs? Was it something about his mother’s struggle with alcohol? Did his sister punch the wall again out of anger?
“I’m not a virgin,” he whispers. He says he regrets it. He tells me it was his ex-girlfriend, and at the time, he thought he loved her.
“If I could do anything though, I’d take it back. I wouldn’t do it.”
I’m 18 and thick in the purity movement. For all practical purposes, this was a deal breaker. For a moment, I break our promise. I judge him. How can you just not say no? I thought. How can you not wait?! I’ve waited. I’ve said no.
The self-righteousness is thick, and I turn that into a battle cry that looks like forgiveness and understanding.
“It’s okay.” I tell him. “We can just go slow. Now that I know, I can help by not making it hard for you.”
(I cringe at this naïvety now. So many things I would tell my 18-year-old-heart in this moment. So many things that sound like grace and life and the messiness of everything.)
“I want to work with teenage girls,” I say to my friend the next day. “I want to help out with Disciple Nows and retreats and camps…I want to get involved in ministry. I miss it.”
My voice is shaky with determination. She looks at me.
“Why retreats? Disciple Nows are so exhausting.”
I lean forward, hoping that maybe my proximity will show how earnest I am.
“I just want people to know their mistakes don’t have to define them.”
Translation: the boy I am in love with, the one who I believe I will be with for the rest of my life, does not meet the very real requirements I’ve set for my future partner and I have no idea what the hell I am supposed to do with this information because if there’s truly grace here for him, that means I have to offer it. At the very least, I can’t hang it over his head…
There’s another story here about evangelicalism and the roots that wrapped so tight they almost strangled me. What’s important though, is what comes next. My friend looks at me and smiles. She’s excited. I’ve passed a test, even though I didn’t know there would be one. I just wanted to meet her and see if she knew of any opportunities. She’s an older friend — a sophomore or junior — involved with the campus Baptist ministry.
“Well, I have a lot of connections. I’ll keep your name in mind.”
I take a deep breath I didn’t even know I was holding and smile.
“Thank you. Please. Just let me know.”
I start gathering my things, but a boy with khaki shorts and spiky hair with frosted tips walks up to the table and starts talking with my friend. I look at him closely, trying to place him. I know him from somewhere. He starts laughing and I remember: on our first day of class, while walking into a freshman “How-to-Survive-College” course, he was the one who turned and said How you doin in true Joey Fatone style.
“Oh.” He said, his eyes wide. “I thought-I thought you were my best friend.” And then he laughed, pointing at a girl who was talking with someone else. It’s the laugh that places him for me.
I smile and eavesdrop on his conversation.
“I’m hosting a True Love Waits rally for my youth group in February. Do you think you would be able to speak?”
I choke on my orange juice and the boy throws me a concerned look. I wave him off.
My friend sucks in her lip, thinking, “I might be busy, but let me double check my schedule and let you know.”
He walks away and my eyes goes wide. The synchronicity feels like magic.
“Did that just happen?”
She nods and takes a sip of her coffee before gathering her things and standing up to leave. “Don’t worry. I know I can’t do it and am already planning on telling him about you.”
My heart rate skips a few beats. I nod, swallowing. This means I actually have to follow through — I actually have to speak. I gather my things and smile a thank you before running off to my English class.
He comes up to me a few days later, before chapel.
“Hi, uh…I don’t think we’ve met yet, but my name’s Russell, and a mutual friend said you would be interested in speaking at my True Love Waits rally in a few weeks.”
He shakes my hand and I smile. His eyes hold a depth I’m not used to, and I pause for a moment before answering.
“Hi. She told me she would be sending you my way.” I’m so awkward. This is awkward, right? I have no idea, but something feels bubbly at the bottom of my gut and I cough, trying to cover up my surprise.
Why do my insides feel so carbonated? It has to be because I’m so excited about speaking to his youth group. I can’t wait to talk to my boyfriend. That’s it. That’s why I’m excited. I get to talk with him soon. Yay!
I blink back into focus, realizing Russ is talking to me, and I smile again — playing off my brief freak out. We make plans for him to pick up me and the roommate on the night of his rally. I grab his arm when he turns away and let go as soon as he turns back toward me, the warmth of his skin against mine sends my brain haywire.
“Um. Sorry. I just realized…do you have anything in particular you want me to say?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. Just, you know…true love waits.”
I laugh, a loud, barking laugh that raises his eyebrows. My heart is racing by now and I just swallow and nod.
“Perfect. I know just what to say.” I throw my hand up and wave and then turn around before I can trip standing up or something equally horrifying.
That was weird, I think to myself as I walk back to the dorm. And without even realizing it, I make a decision to avoid him at all cost.
