My First Crush

You never forget your first crush, or so the saying goes. No matter how divergent I try to be, I’m no exception to that common statement; my first crush is still stamped on my mind even though I’m not a romantic. To actually get myself in the mood to write this piece, I’m listening to love songs by the band with the animal-inspired name: The Beatles.

I've had a lot of crushes and even some serious relationships since my first – there was Victor, Aiden, Clint (affectionately nicknamed “Spider” because he was all legs), to name a few, and most recently, Alex.

            Victor and I were short-lived. He was needy, and I loved him, but things didn't work out. He met this great girl and they hit it off. I saw them jumping around together one day, and I had to be happy because they looked so good. I guess their personalities just worked for them.

            “Spider” was too young for me. You know, sometimes you just have to have this spring fling with a cutie…

Of the four, Aiden was by far the most accomplished. But he was the oldest. I was fascinated by him. He approached me, all proper, helpful, and amazing. And beautiful!! He had dark, wavy hair and big, soft brown eyes. When he listened, you knew he was immensely intelligent. It didn't take me long to fall hard and fast. He was constantly teaching me and making fun of my mistakes, but we never even disagreed about anything. Obviously we didn't last long because he ended up with someone with far more talents than I had at the time. I wonder what we would've happened if we’d gotten together a couple years later.

My relationship with Alex lasted the longest of the four. He was gorgeous – tan with blue eyes and a wild side. We had a complicated relationship because he was creative and a little moody (and I’m creative and moody, too). He dumped me in a corner on Christmas Eve one year. Can you believe that? And sometimes he didn't like to listen, which everyone knows drives a girl absolutely crazy! But I adored him. I had a lot more going for me when we met and started hanging out. We did so many special things together; he was a lot of firsts for me. When our relationship was good, we were such show-offs. Then, I left for college … and you know how that goes. Long distance is impossible.

            Anyway, what am I saying? I wanted to talk about my first crush: Ludan. He was tall, dark, strong, older than me with a little foreign blood, a deep tone, beautiful eyes, and a gentle manner – basically everything a girl could ever want. I mean … and I was just a klutzy thirteen-year-old at the time.

            When we met, I felt like our relationship was somehow arranged. His copper-haired friend nudged him toward me just as my blonde friend nudged me toward him. We saw each other from afar, but our gaze held, and his eyes made me stand still. I was thinking, This is going to happen! For the very first time, this is going to happen to me!!!!!!

            I couldn't wait to see him again because I was dying to spend some time with him. Unfortunately, he was busy. One of his friends was hurt, and then, we had a huge snowfall that blocked the roads, and I couldn't go and see him for two whole weeks. I contented myself by speculating about him in my diary. Will he like me? Will we get along? He’s so gorgeous! When will I get to see him?

            Yeah. Sometimes we girls can jump far ahead. I’m not even sure he was giving me a second thought those two weeks.

            You could probably say that it was love at first sight, and I wouldn't correct you.

            When we got to see each other again, we spent an extended period of time together. At first, I was afraid of him, nervously stepping around him, staring dumb-founded, very unsure of myself. Gradually, he made me understand that he would never hurt me.

We worked on figures together. I knew that he had already done similar figures many times, but he was patient with me, and I fell in love instantly with his quiet, dark eyes and his willingness to compensate for what I still couldn't do. I was a beginning, star-struck klutz just moving out of middle school and into the big world of decide-what-you-like-and-do-it.

            It didn't take me very long to discover that he exceeded all my dreams. That realization opened up my heart and my mind. Pretty soon, we were watching shows together on some weekends, and we attended some events together on other weekends. I met all of his friends and they all loved me. All my friends announced that we were a pair. I wasn't always sure what his friends whispered to him, but I hoped for only good things since they all loved me. I baked him special treats since the way to his heart was sometimes through his stomach. I liked going out with him, especially when the weather was nice.

Once, we sat under a weeping willow and shared an apple. That moment was romantic. Our favorite season was fall. I liked it best because there were so many more events to attend in the fall; he liked it best because the flies and the heat weren't so overwhelming.

            The first gift I bought for him was a pair of sweet new shoes. They were so expensive, but when I saw him tripping out and nodding his head, I knew that they were worth every penny. He wore them every day. Of course, they didn't last very long, but then, what shoes ever do? 

            He was so strong. I know he liked to carry me. Sometimes he would run as fast as he could while he was carrying me. I always laughed and lost my breath. A couple times I fell while he was running flat-out. He stopped instantly both times, coming back to kiss me and make sure I was okay. So sweet and apologetic. And I was still laughing.

            The best times were when we didn't have anything specific to work on or any events to attend. I would sit on the grass or lay in the sun and he would stand next to me, looking down. I would whisper secrets to him. He never broke my confidence, which is more than I can say for any guy or girl I've ever known.

We were officially together for eight months.

            Around that time, I started to wonder if we would go all the way to the top together – if he would be mine forever. The thought was magical to me. To find “The One” so early in my career!

But then, I moved away, and I never got to see him again.

I cried for two months, and I wouldn't be consoled. Now I feel sorry for my family. I must have been something of a drama queen over Ludan.

Then, I met Victor at a stable which was nearer to our house, and like I said, he was needy, but my eagerness to meet his needs made me stop sobbing over Ludan.  

I don’t cry anymore, but I will never forget Ludan and all the time we spent together. He was my first horse, and I fell in love with him at first sight. 

Security or Adventure?

         For my graduation last May, one of my best friends from my senior year bought me a journal with questions to inspire writing every day. Writing every day was one of my goals last year, so the journal is now a part of my daily routine.

            The question for a few days ago asked; are you searching for security, or are you up for adventure?

            I had to pause and think about that question (which is always a good thing to do before writing anything) because I’m huge on security, planning, routine, and safety. The structure and rules were things that I appreciated about college life; I attended a Christian college with more rules and regulations than most universities.

I met God at college, and He took over my life, which was an experience similar to a cross between being abducted by aliens and finding out I was a princess unawares. The people I encountered at college fell into one of the two camps: those who were at various growth stages within their royal roles while seeking to expand their knowledge of our King, and those who desperately whispered escape plans from our alien abductors while refreshing their knowledge of what the “normal” world was like. I could relate to both groups. Some experiences and information were completely alien to me, grating against everything I’d ever known. Some experiences and information made me feel so special and so blessed royal. However, I didn't completely identify with either group. I came to the warped conclusions that it was because I was such a late addition to the “society”.

I liked the clear-cut, black-and-white, no-way-out format of the college because I didn't have the anxiety of wondering what I should do, what I should wear, and how I should respond to things. I always felt very safe. All I really had to worry about was schoolwork and running.  

            Before college, I lived in an environment with fewer rules and regulations, more freedom, more responsibility, more decisions, and a hectic work and school schedule which I had to make myself. In college, a lot of the decisions were already made for me – what I could wear, where I could go at what time, which classes I needed to take in order to graduate, which hours I could work on campus, even what I could eat based on what was in the cafeteria that day – and I appreciated the new-found safety which I enjoyed as one piece of a 50+ year old, well-oiled system. I loved the singular focus of homework and cross country. College snatched quite a bit of the burden of the rest of the responsibilities off my shoulders.

            Then, I graduated early, wishing that I could spend another year in college, and yet thrilled to be done.

Life became instant confusion. Maybe it sounds stupid, but I wrestled with issues as little as whether or not I should go back to wearing blue jeans (because we weren't allowed to wear blue jeans at college) and whether or not it was okay to miss a Sunday service because of work (this was highly discouraged at college). Also, I struggled with bigger issues, such as whether or not I should be okay with a stranger spending the night on my couch (not even a feasible situation in a women’s Christian college dorm), what church I should even attend (there had been a list of approved churches at college), if I should still love gory action movies, and how I should respond when there didn't seem to be a correct answer to a question. 

My job posed even more ethically complicated situations, which I had before faced and accepted as a non-Christian in the job world. Now I struggled because I had a new conscious and the Holy Spirit, both of which I often didn't know how to handle. What were the college rules that I was unconsciously connecting to my relationship with God, and what was the Holy Spirit, and what was the old me?

Christians seem to somehow think that meeting God makes things less complicated. On a big picture level, I found that truth to be beautiful; nothing in the world makes any sense without God. On a day-to-day basis, I found that thought to be a horrible lie.

Imagine having a unexpected collision, landing in the hospital with all these problems caused by the collision, being told that you actually have a bunch of other problems revealed by X-rays and tests, finding out you aren't who you thought who you were, nothing in life means what you thought it did, your purpose is completely different than what you thought it was, you need a heart transplant and a brain transplant (if that’s even possible) and a blood infusion, and the person who is going to do those procedures and give you those things is now hugging you and shaking your hand, and he’s a stranger to you, even though he’s known you for forever. You’re meeting him for the first time, freaking out because he'll now be part of your life forever. Regular surgeries will be required throughout your entire life, some more painful and hard than others, and your life will never go back to “normal” (whatever normal was in the first place).

That’s what meeting God did to me.  

The rest of last year, I felt dangerously insecure. I felt like I was either being reckless or being a kill-joy. I felt like I was being labeled simultaneously as a conservative Pharisee or an irresponsible liberal by different people. I tried to make my own list of morals and answers to my FAQs. The organization didn't help; no matter what situation appeared, I always lost. Without fail, I lost. Sometimes the decisions I made seemed okay, then crumbled. Sometimes someone told me a decision I felt was wrong was actually right, or a decision that I thought was right was actually wrong. I thought I’d been welcomed into a society of doppelgangers, and I was in grave danger of becoming one as well.

The security or adventure question was another one of those questions that I would lose, no matter what I answered.

Spontaneity is nice to a degree, but I prefer security, always knowing what is coming next, having clear boundaries, correct answers.

Complaining to God, I cried;

“I don’t feel secure.”

What don’t you feel secure in?

“Everything.”

How much do you need to know to be secure?

I blanched, realizing my problem. “Everything.”

My prerequisite for security was omniscience. My definition of security was never feeling uncertain in anything, not even in what time I got up in the morning, and especially not in when I would have the money to pay my bills or if I would be hurt by a certain person.

I wanted God to be like college: a list of then/if equations, fail-proofs to various scenarios, something like a step-by-step to life, or a Life for Dummies book, and He just … wasn't. I wanted Him to be simple to understand, when He is a complex, round character (to put it in author's terms). 

The answer to the security or adventure question has to be both options, I ended up recognizing eventually. Life with God is going to be a default adventure because I will never know everything, but I can be secure in the fact that He will always be in control of the adventure and always right by my side in the middle of it.

I’m just never content to have it be that way.