I am the type of person that when I say I am going to do something, I do it. First, I plan it all out in my head. Sometimes this take minutes, sometimes years. Once the plan is made, I say it aloud. Now, once I say it aloud... and someone has to hear it... I believe it is "out there...in the universe" and therefore, must be taken care of. It is my way of making promises and keeping them.
Now, from the time it is said, to the time it actually gets done, again, sometimes minutes, sometimes years.
The summer between my senior year of high school and my first year of college was by far the best summer of my life. There was a vibe to that summer that can not accurately be described. It was the last summer of being a child and the first summer of being an adult. It was the summer I actually felt my life change.
One hot summer night, my two best girlfriends and I went to a "party in the field". This is ironic because we truly lived no where near "fields", we lived smack dab in the middle of suburbia. But, this party was far enough away from our civilization to be deemed a "party in the field". I don't remember much of it, except it was when I decided I wanted a boyfriend.
This probably sounds very silly. Here I was, eighteen, and deciding I wanted a boyfriend. Plenty of girls I knew had had boyfriends. Some of them had had them since eighth grade. But, I wasn't like a lot of girls. Sure, I liked boys. I drove my parents crazy with my boy talk, and boy phone calls, and boy pictures. But, in reality, they scared me a little bit. The whole concept of one boy ogling over you, and carrying your books, and calling you every night, and then kissing you... just made me nervous.
At the party in the field, I remember there being a bonfire. Friends of ours had a band, and I remember them playing endless songs. One boy in the band made my heart beat quicker than it had ever before. He had long, shiny hair. We danced around the fire. I liked the way he held my hand, and later walked us back to our car. On the ride home, I told my girlfriends I wanted to date him. I wanted a boyfriend.
Twenty years later, I can not remember his name.
Less than two weeks later, I left for college.
My college was a small, religious school. Not long after classes started, talk of a certain degree filtered through halls, the dining room, the bathroom. Everyone was talking about which girls were there to get their M-R-S degrees. Now, my parents had sent me to school to earn a bachelor's degree, and I naively wondered if I had signed up for the wrong courses. It took my quite awhile to understand what that degree was.
Once I figured out that some girls were there to simply find a husband, I scouffed at the absurdity of that notion. I was not paying all that money just to find a husband. And, I didn't. I found a boyfriend.
Not a month into school, I met my boyfriend at a friend's college. Like it was just yesterday, I remember the first time I saw him. We were walking back to my friend's fraternity house, and my soon-to-be-boyfriend walked up behind us. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His deep brown eyes glimmered from the reflection of the streetlights. With his hand tucked under his backpack, casually slung over his shoulder, he quietly said, "Hi" to us. In that moment, I knew that boy would change my life.
And, he did. In many ways... both beautifully and tragically. The rest of our story is for another post.
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