Bookends

I call the journey I took between 2000 and 2007 my "educational odyssey". This is the trip I took back East to put myself through college and the continuation of my education back home in Seattle.

There were a couple of poetic bookends that began and ended this journey. The most obvious, the sticker on the side of my U-Haul truck. When I drove that big truck, towing my car behind, all the way to Berea, Ohio, it had a big North Carolina sticker on the side. I only lasted in Ohio one year and wound up completing my bachelor's degree in North Carolina, of all places. Once I got my degree, I didn't drive a U-Haul back to the Pacific Northwest as I gave most of my belongings away. A year and a half later, when I finally had enough money saved to move out of my sister's place and into my own little apartment, the small U-Haul I rented also had a North Carolina sticker on the side. What are the odds? (Probably one in fifty but let's leave that for another time).

The other bookend of this journey have been the twin stones that encased my heart for many years. The first one, Hank (names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent, as these men are not innocent), showed up at my door two months before I made my historic move. He contacted me without my permission and had gone to great lengths to find me, digging through forgotten boxes in his storage locker in order to locate my address. In one evening, he wormed his way back into my life, saying it was "timing" that seperated us (instead of his cruelty). Being the naive and trusting soul that I am, I let him back into my thoughts and yes, into my heart. But, I was very cautious. I didn't even kiss him goodnight on that fateful evening. He went off to climb a mountain for several days. During the next two weeks, I was filled with fond memories and hope. Before he returned, I emailed him and told him I would not be afraid to "kiss him goodnight" next time I saw him. A very different Hank came down from that mountain. When he saw me upon his return, he was cold and distant, and even spiteful. He did not want to hear that I had again warmed to him. Was I wrong to assume that some man who had gone to such great lengths to find me didn't want to rekindle our flame? As I dropped him off at the youth hostel, he put his arm around me and leaned in to kiss me but I did not kiss him back. A week later, on the exact spot where he touched my back, grew a hard, black mole that I had to have removed by a doctor.

Bookend number two: Keith. I shut him out of my heart and mind following a devistatingly humiliating phone call in 1992 when the woman he tried to replace me with serviced him below the belt during his call with me. He thought he was so clever and didn't think I knew what was going on. Believe me, I knew. I'm sure the happy couple had quite a laugh at my expense. I was so destroyed by this disgustingly inconsiderate act that I sunk into a deep depression and began the psychotherapy I continued for 15 years. (That part, at least, has been a blessing). The only way I ever referred to him was "he was 20, I was 29" and our most memorable time together as "5-times-in-3-hours". He didn't exist in my conscious memory until he called me in 1999 while I was on the radio. I didn't allow myself to open up to him but I did allow myself to acknowledge that I had been in love with him.

Cut to 2005. I have finished my undergraduate degree and am preparing to move back to Seattle to get my graduate degree. A month before making the cross-country trek, I get an email, out of the blue, from Keith. Once again, this man had to go to great lengths to find me, doing periodic Google searches. Apparently he had been looking for me for years, finally locating me via an article written about me by my University. He contacted my sister, asking for my email address. After obtaining my permission, my sister gave it to him. And thus began a 17-month (very guarded, on my part) email conversation between Keith and I. Mostly we talked about dogs and the mundane things of life. He had married Miss B.J. (out "of habbit", as he told me on the phone), who had become a near invalid when she broke her back before they were wed. Thing is, Keith loves to be the knight in shining armor. He has come to the aid of distressed women since his father left him, his sister and his mother when he was young. His wife (surprisingly also older than him...hmmm...just like me, except 15 years older than him!...did he make the connection?) is in constant need of rescuing, always requiring some kind of medical attention or another. Dear, Pious Keith, the long-suffering husband, is always at the ready, always willing to sacrifice his own happiness for her...

Why did he contact me 17 months ago? Why did he still email me when he didn't hear from me for months? Why, when I finally found an old photo of him and the good memories came flooding back to me, did he say he never really "respected or appreciated me" when we spoke on the phone? Why did he tell me I had a "profound impact on his life"? And finally, why, when I fully opened my emotions to him in a beautifully written letter, did he write to me that he "deeply loved his wife" and that he "has found peace"??? Why did he break my heart all over again?

Why? Because he is a frightened, weak man, afraid of a strong woman like me. Afraid I might make him see the truth.

I wish I could bash both Hank and Keith in the head with their stone bookends.