Fighting the forces of Darkness...day by day

Seconds

I've told the story of my first boyfriend...in preschool.  Things with Jimmy were pretty serious, so I took some time off of boys after the tumultuous roller-coaster of our relationship (this nicely coincided with the time off of me that all the boys in the world were taking). 

When I was a freshman in high school, my fast ended.  I met Joe (all names have been changed to protect the innocent).  Joe was like a 14 year old Viking.  Well, not a time-accurate 14 year old Viking.  I'm pretty sure that at 14, back in the day, Viking boys were already raping and pillaging and sword fighting.  Odds are pretty high that Joe never pillaged or raped or sword-fought.  I mean, I don't know for certain.  Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that he was tall and blond.

He was also a nondenominational Christian.  I was a...lapsed Methodist?  Vague Protestant? Genetic Catholic?  Spiritual but not religious?  None of those things are appropriate answers to "have you accepted Jesus as your personal savior?"  I bought some time early in the relationship by telling him I was considering it.  I was like double-dipping for him: girlfriend + spiritual bonus. 

We weren't allowed to "date" until we were 16.  Thus, we agreed to non-date together.  For those of you who have never been prudish and 14, that means we hung out at school and hugged. We also went to football games together.  I remember sitting on his lap (my first lap), holding his hand and thinking that the world was pretty damn awesome.

Neither of us had experienced our first kiss, which we were saving for something special (note: for me, "something special" was when I was 19...for him, it would be...14).  I went to church with his family once.  His mom wasn't pleased that I would be muddying their Aryan genetics with my dark hair.  She grilled me about Jesus from the front seat of the minivan as I clutched my seat-belt in fear. 

His church possessed a lot of odd singing and laser lights and very outlandish interpretations on Bible verses.  My previous church experiences were always in old buildings with stained glass windows and beautiful hymns.  Those churches were inspiring and lovely.  This was neither and it made me uncomfortable to see their fervent devotion to the seeming insanity. 

They started on some of the more hateful propaganda.  I was hoping that if I didn't say "amen," God would know that I wasn't with them.  As the service wound to a close, members of the congregation gathered up front.  The pastor walked down the line, poking them in the head.  Each person, upon being poked, collapsed.  Joe asked if I wanted to go up.  I shook my head frantically.  I couldn't imagine how to react up there.  Would I stay standing, forcing him to apply more pressure until he literally shoved me to the floor?  Should I fake it?  And, if I faked it, wouldn't God know?  It seemed like a better option to avoid the situation entirely.

I tried to tell myself that his beliefs didn't necessarily mesh with those of his family.  Mostly, we didn't talk about religion.   We went to a Homecoming dance together.  It was my first experience with both sequins and make up.  I'm not sure how well I carried off either item.  I could also wear wicked-high heels on account of Joe was so tall.  I carried those off alright. 

We'd been together for 3 months when the MORP dance came about.  MORP is traditionally girl-ask-guy.  I was psyched that I actually had a boyfriend because otherwise I never would have managed to build up the courage to ask anyone.

I sat on my twin bed and dialed my clock-phone combo.  My palms were sweaty as I lifted the phone to my ear.  It rang three times before his mother answered.  I could hear the disapproval in her voice as she passed me off to him.  I don't remember how I asked him.  I know that it was one of those joke/serious statements.  I'm a total coward, even if something is a sure thing.

After I spoke, the seconds ticked away and my knuckles turned white around the phone.

"I...think we should see other people.  I'm going to the dance with Brittany."

My brain: You think we should see other people and you choose NOW to tell me?  Now when I am on the phone asking you to a dance?  Not any of the in-person time we had earlier in the day?  That in-person time where you were supposedly dating me but had already decided to go to the dance with SOMEONE ELSE?! And what the hell?  You want to see other people?  I'm awesome, I don't know if you noticed.  You know who's not awesome?  Brittany.  I know she's all blond and dance-y, but she will bore you to tears in 2 months (note: she did.)

My mouth: "Okeydokey."

"...What?"

"Okeydokey...fine.  I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow."

click.