Love Story part 2


It’s the way of stories really. Those pauses and continuations. Those chance meetings that change everything.
The reason it’s the way of stories: it’s the way of life.
After that party where Brian and I said goodbye, I couldn’t help but think he really liked one of my friends more anyway. Now he tells me he spent most of the time at that party worried that he was the only one of legal age in the place and the amount of alcohol being consumed could send someone to the hospital.
Not his type of good time. I’m not sure when it had become my kind of good time.
But, it had.
I lived for the party and loved it, too.
We drank, we danced, we partied. We didn’t show our IDs at the door. we were regulars. They assumed we were old enough. And the boyfriend, well, he partied too. In fact, that “party” side of him drew me. A few years before I’d set out to date only people who would drive my mother crazy. People who would shock the heck out of my church friends. And I always took them to church.
I’m not sure why or what happened. If it was the evangelist who told us we were going to hell because we wouldn’t go to the front and pray or the preacher who said my dad was evil because he didn’t agree with him, but I turned my back on who I was and set about re-inventing me.
Brian Lee, the guy from speech, was too close to the real me, and I didn’t want any part of him.
When I got pregnant (old boyfriend, not Brian), I was totally freaked out. I couldn’t be pregnant. I’d had too much to drink in the month previous (broken up and broken hearted once again). A fetus would die inside of me.
But the double lines on the pregnancy test told the truth. I Was.
Thank God.
I know that’s a weird response. And it certainly wasn’t my initial one.
But as the baby inside me grew, I rediscovered me.
God’s grace is pretty amazing.
And when I ran into the guy from speech class once again…well, we were both in different places. Only he didn’t know how different…

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