Final Essay—Part 2

I smiled to myself as I thought about that first kiss, hesitant yet sincere. But other less perfect memories quickly followed. I remembered lingering just outside the psychology classroom door, waiting for Scott after our class. We had gotten back our midterm tests in AP Psychology and he had not done well. He was trying to talk our teacher into letting him retake it, but Mr. Downs was notorious for not giving second chances when it came to tests. I would have stayed in the classroom to offer Scott some moral support, but he had been a little distant that day and I didn't want to annoy him by hanging around. Looking over my own test, I was surprised and pleased to see I had only missed one question out of fifty, the highest score in the class. Mr. Downs had mentioned that only one person had received missed only one question, but he hadn't said my name. I started to smile, but then I thought of Scott and his score. My smile disappeared as I realized that my success would make him feel worse.

I stuffed the test into my backpack, leaning against the blue lockers along the wall while hundreds of students filled the halls going to lunch. It was the middle of our senior year at Orem High School. Scott and I had been "boyfriend and girlfriend" since our first kiss four months ago, but there hadn't been too many kisses since then, mostly just holding hands when people weren't looking and always sitting by each other at lunch and during movies. Scott was a slow mover, but I didn't mind too much. What mattered was that Scott liked me, had picked me out of all the girls in our group of friends. I could be patient and go at his pace if that's what he needed. Just knowing that I had been chosen was enough. And it was enough that I got to see him every day, since we had almost exactly the same class schedule. We usually went over to his house after school to work on our homework, provided we didn't have rehearsal for one of the school plays. We always ended up at his house because Scott didn't have a car, so I would offer to drive him home after school. It was that much more time to spend with him.

I was just thinking about peeking into the classroom to see how things were going when Scott appeared, scowling. "I'm so frustrated!" he exclaimed, walking down the hallway toward his locker. "I don't know why I can't get a good score in that class. I do fine in all my other classes. But this just, I don't know!"

"I know," I said sympathetically, matching my pace with his. "That's so annoying. They're just hard tests. We just need to study more, that's all. You'll do better next time, I'm sure."

"Probably not," Scott said bitterly. "I think I'm getting worse on every one. I'm just stupid or something."

"No you're not! Don't say that," I protested.

"I got a 68% on that test!" he exclaimed. "That's practically failing." We were at his locker and he was throwing books around and trying to sort through the mess of papers in his backpack. Suddenly he looked up at me. "What did you get?" he asked, almost suspiciously.

I shrugged, trying to keep my face nonchalant. "I did okay."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. Little Miss Perfect. I bet you were the one to only miss one, right?" I shrugged again, a little stung by his sarcasm. He snorted again and slammed his locker shut, heading for the cafeteria where the rest of our friends would be eating lunch.

I tried to think of something to make him laugh, anything to distract him from his bad mood. "Well, it's probably because I don't fall asleep during class every day," I gently teased, poking his side playfully. To my surprise, he batted my hand away and pulled back. "Sorry," I said, taken aback. "Scott, I'm just teasing."

"I'm just tired, okay? I can't help it." He seemed genuinely upset by my comment. He wouldn't look at me and seemed to be trying to put some distance between us. Something was up.

"Scott, what's going on? Why are you so upset? I was just teasing, I'm sorry it wasn't funny, I was just trying to make you laugh…" I was at a loss for how to fix the situation.

He sighed and stopped just outside the cafeteria doors. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just…I'm upset about the test and I…well, I need to talk to you about something."

My stomach dropped. Those were never good words. "Okay," I said slowly. "Let's talk."

We moved off the side, out of the way of students going to lunch. "Okay, well, I…I don't know how to say this," Scott began, fidgeting with his backpack straps and looking anywhere but at me. I didn't say anything, just waited patiently for him to continue. "I guess it's just…Well, but it's not about you…" Scott took a deep breath. "Okay, here it is. I…I think I like Natalie."

I felt like I had just missed the bottom stair, falling forward unexpectedly. I tried not to let anything show on my face, I just nodded once, slowly, but inside I was curling up into a ball of hurt. Natalie was my best friend. She was cute and skinny and fun; of course he liked her. He always flirted with her a little, but they were both flirty people so I had tried to not let it bother me. I hadn't wanted to be a crazy controlling girlfriend. But still, I hadn't seen this coming.

Scott seemed to be waiting for a reaction, so I just said, "Okay…?"

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know this isn't fair, but I just…I've been thinking about it and I think I like her, and…" He trailed off. I nodded again. I knew how uncomfortable the situation was for him, so I searched for something to say to help him out.

"Well, uh," I was trying desperately to keep my voice under control. "I don't know what you want me to do….I guess…do you want to break up?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "That's the thing, I still really like you too. I don't want to break up. I just…like you both."

The hurt was a little lessened, but it was still there. I nodded again. I still didn't know what to say. He seemed to be waiting for me to come up with an answer, a solution to this unsolvable dilemma. "Well, I…don't know. Okay," I finally said. "I need to think about this. Why don't we just…go to lunch and we'll talk about it later?" Scott nodded quickly, relieved. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom," I motioned down the hall. "I'll meet you in there."

We parted, both glad to get away. I walked slowly down the hall, still in shock. I had no idea what to do or how to fix this. I went around in circles in my head, wondering what to say, how to feel, where I should sit when I went back to the cafeteria. I felt so deflated, so let down, so…not enough. It hurt to know I wasn't enough to keep his attention, to make him happy. I didn't want to break up with him; I still liked him, I still wanted him to like me and trust me and need me. I needed to be needed.

I didn't know then that it would only take Scott a couple of days to decide he didn't actually like Natalie, or that in spite of that he would continue to flirt with her, or that he would do the same thing to me again the next year with a different friend. I didn't know that I would forgive him every time he did something hurtful, or that he would hurt me many times over. Even if I had known those things, I don't think it would have changed anything. I wasn't one to try to find a way out. I tended to stay with people and jobs and problems until the end, too unsure of myself to be without something to hang on to. There was security in never switching lanes. I still needed him and I needed the validation of being in a relationship, imperfect though it was.

 

    As I remembered those heartbreaking moments, I asked myself why I stayed with him for so long. Was it really out of a need for validation and a lack of self-confidence? Was it just out of habit? I knew part of it was that I didn't want to hurt him. He was so insecure; I just couldn't bring myself to call him out on his actions. And every time he came back to me after flirting with one of my friends, I couldn't bring myself to reject him the way he had rejected me.

I thought about the last time I had seen Scott before his mission. It was late when Scott and I pulled up in front of my apartment building. He was leaving on his mission the next day, so we had gone on a last date—dinner and a play—to spend some time final time together. We were silent as Scott turned the car and headlights off and took my hand. I had wanted to avoid saying goodbye for as long as possible, but I knew it couldn't be put off much longer.

    "Kate, I…I want to ask you something," Scott began, looking down at our hands.

    "Okay," I said slowly, wary of where this was headed. "What is it?" I prompted when he didn't answer right away.

    "I'm not sure how to say this…" He let out a deep breath. "I've just been thinking a lot, and I just….You are so important to me. I am so grateful that someone as amazing as you could love someone like me." I began to protest at his self-directed insult, but he cut me off. "No, let me finish. It's just that, I want you to always be a part of my life. I can't even imagine my life without you."

    My heart started thumping heavily in my chest and I felt panic take hold. I wasn't prepared for this, couldn't tell where it was headed. What was he going to ask me? What was I going to say?

    "I know two years is a long time, but I don't want to lose you," he went on as he finally looked up and made direct eye contact with me. Oh no, I thought wildly, is he going to propose? "So I have to ask you, will you wait for me?"

I stared at him, almost not comprehending. Not a proposal, but close. By asking me to "wait" for him, Scott was asking me to not get married while he was gone, to still feel the same about him when he got back so we could pick up where we were leaving off. It wasn't an unusual thing for a soon-to-be-missionary to do, but I was not ready for it. I knew a lot would happen in two years, and with our limited communication, it would be hard to keep our relationship strong. I didn't know if I would feel the same in two years, nor did I want to promise something I wasn't sure I could do. I knew all of that, but when Scott looked at me, apprehension and vulnerability written all over his face, waiting for my answer, how could I say no? How could I say goodbye like that? I couldn't.

    "Yes," I finally said, "as best as I can, I'll wait."

 

***

But I didn't wait.

I sat and looked at my phone and thought about those words—I love you—and all I could think was, why am I saving this? I thought about my "perfect" romance, remembering how much I had put into my relationship with Scott and how little I had gotten out of it, and I saw that there was nothing perfect about it. We were imperfect people in an imperfect relationship but I had excused it, time and again. Why? Because I thought that being in a relationship was more important than being happy? I had subconsciously been trying to fulfill all the expectations I had for my life, built on what I felt my religion and my community expected for me, but I had lost myself along the way.

I didn't want to sacrifice the rest of my life to a marriage that wouldn't make me happy just because everyone expected us to get marred. Marriage was still important, still the goal, but what about the other life experiences? What about school? What about traveling? What about being happy, feeling loved, not worrying if he would get bored with me? What about valuing my own experiences for what they were instead of only noticing what they were not?

I knew I didn't want to marry him, didn't want to wait for him or be in a relationship with him again. I realized I had known it for a while, even if I was only now admitting it to myself. But I had still been keeping it as an option, almost like a kind of back-up plan. That's not fair, I realized, to him or to me. It wasn't fair to put my life on hold just in case things worked out with Scott. And it wasn't fair to him for me to be dishonest about how I felt.

So why couldn't I let it go? Why did I still have this text saved, a reminder of all that our relationship was and wasn't? What was I so afraid of?

I was afraid that he was my only chance for getting married. He had chosen me, not consistently, but always in the end, he had chosen me. I was afraid of being alone, afraid that I wouldn't be able to make it on my own strength even though I had been the one supporting both of us for so long. I was afraid of hurting him like he had hurt me, knowing that this decision would break his heart. I had so many fears, but was it worth it?

Yes, I decided, it was worth waiting for a better relationship. I knew people weren't perfect and so relationships couldn't be. It made relationships terrifying, especially something as important and committed as an eternal marriage. It requires entrusting yourself so completely to someone else, making yourself vulnerable, in essence giving someone else a hundred ways to hurt or disappoint or betray you. Marriage means entrusting your whole, imperfect self over to another imperfect person and believing that person will value you, will protect you, will try not to hurt you. I couldn't believe that about Scott, but I believed it was possible. I believed I could find that imperfect relationship, just on my own terms.

In that moment, with all those thoughts and memories swirling around in my head, I was sure of one thing: I was not going to wait for Scott anymore. And suddenly it was clear that it wasn't just about Scott. It was about me moving on with my life, living my life, enjoying my life, and not giving in to expectation. I was choosing to be alone, yes, but I was the one choosing it. And I was choosing to value myself and my happiness. I was choosing to open my eyes to more than just that future, choosing to go outside the lines.

I read that text one last time—I love you—and then I deleted it, swiftly punching buttons so that I wouldn't have time to stop myself.