This is my Story… (continued some more)

(for previous ‘Story’ posts: )

Okay. So, I’ve actually been intending on continuing on with my testimony posts for some time now, but, tonight I find myself needing the reminders of God’s provision and hand on my life more than anyone.

They say that “timing is everything”. Well, I don’t know that it’s everything, but it sure can make an impact. And you may call it coincidence. But, I choose to believe in something more. Especially, when you feel in your heart of hearts that it’s something more.

By the end of the last post, I was in a new school (10 x bigger), in a new state (750 miles closer to the equator), and a whole different culture, muddling through just to make it to graduation. High school was basically “survive and get out” those last two years. Never was big on the whole school thing anyway, but not really having many friends just perpetuated that feeling.

So, about halfway through Senior year (I guess?) they had a college fair, with all different colleges represented. I hadn’t even been here long enough to really know what was out there. But, having to ‘go with the flow’ anyway and not having anyone to hang with, I just remember slowly walking through the tables, just half-heartedly picking up a brochure here and there.

Then, I heard a friendly voice say “You looking for a small school? or a large school?” I said “Definitely small. I’m out of my element even here.” He said “Well then, Piedmont’s the school for you!” It was Mark Whiting, from Piedmont College up in Demorest (that I’d never even heard of) and oddly enough, without ever having even seen the place, something in me just knew that he was right.

From the moment we exited for the first time off of 365, I knew that’s where I belonged. It just felt like ‘home’. Always did and I suppose, always will.

Got up there the next fall, made some quick friends, and all was going well. Even got me a serious little boyfriend… Things were finally falling into place. By that first summer, I couldn’t wait to get back up there. I had two different friends wanting to room with me and I’d be seeing much more of the fella.

Well, summer didn’t even end before hearing news that one friend wouldn’t be returning to school. The other was coming back married and pregnant. And it wasn’t even October before boyfriend “got in a car accident, hit (his) head and forgot (my) phone number”. (No lie. Verbatim right there, folks. Smoooth, eh?)

Needless to say… not the year I had anticipated. As it turned out, many of my quick friends did not return, many of them were friends of the fella, and the other friend was a little preoccupied, being newly wed and preggo. And the roommate I ended up with? Let’s just say she wasn’t the sweetest thing on the block. And it seemed as though any friends I had anywhere up to that point just…. disappeared from my life. Many hurts and many betrayals during that time.

I think, for whatever reason, I was already headed for depression that year, but all of these factors just put me completely over the edge. I don’t know that anyone really knew (aside from my roommate… that is, if she even noticed). But, I cried every day. For the better part of that school year. And thank God for the preggo friend. Without her, I wouldn’t have so much as eaten all year either. I only ate when she invited me over for dinner.

That was the hardest year of my life.

And it kills me now, to think that it never once occurred to me to turn to God, a Bible or even to church. Not once. I felt so alone. And so helpless. The tears sting my eyes even now. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy.

Thankfully, the following year, I wound up with a much sweeter roommate. She was rarely there, but would leave me sweet beautifully scripted notes if someone called for me. And yet again, I had gotten to the point of “Just get me out of here and I will put it all behind me”. Muddle through. And move on.

But, even though I had that thinking, my heart reminded me that I couldn’t move on. I needed closure with the boyfriend. I don’t remember what prompted it, but I remember as if it were last week… I just broke down and finally cried out… to Whoever was listening… “Please just give me closure. I miss him as a friend. I miss all my friends. Please. All I ask for is closure. I have got to be able to move on.”

That was about 10:00 on a Saturday night. And about an hour later, the phone rang. I assumed it was either crazy Javier or a wrong number. It wasn’t. It was the boyfriend. Mr. Bumped His Head called on a Saturday night. First time in over a year. Just to talk. And we talked for nearly 3 hours that night. Both knowing it would be the last time.

But, what mattered even more than talking to him, was the fact that I was ‘heard’. By Whoever. I hung up the phone that night… and moved on… with a peace I had not known in quite some time…

Published in: on January 14, 2010 at 11:54 pm  Comments (4)  

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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. The ol’ “50 First Dates” defense, huh? I think I went out with his sister, except she forgot who I even was:)

    I was talking to a friend tonight who was laid off from his job with Disney 10 months ago (after 12 years with them), and is still jobless. Same question came up … how do people who don’t know Christ get through those dark, depressing times? We pretty much came to the same conclusion you did … wouldn’t wish it on our worst enemy. Thanks for sharing your story.

  2. I had no idea you were ever that sad in college. From the outside looking in, by someone who never finished college, I was always jealous. Piedmont always looked great to me.

    And I’m sorry, but that line from Mr Bumped His Head still makes me lol. The fact that he even said it, expecting you to believe it, cracks me up! In the words of Savannah, “That’s so lame!” 🙂

  3. Piedmont was a great place. May not have been the best time of my life, but it’s always been special to me.
    Yeah. I remember a few people lol’n over that one. What can ya say… It was Richard. And from what I recall, he didn’t exactly expect me to buy it, he was just young, confused, wanted out and thought he was being cute. Punk. 🙂

  4. […] This is my Story… (continued) (for previous ‘Story’ post: ) […]

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