I have to admit that I'm really apprehensive writing this. It's a hard part of my life to share, but maybe that means it's something I should do.
So, with complete nervousness, here's the beginning of my memoir about how I fell in love. I know the start is a bit rocky, but it will get better, I promise.
Here we go . . .
Looking back, when I got married at seventeen, I didn't know I would end up as a homeless street musician. I didn't know I'd run away with a practical stranger. I didn't know what turn of events would bring me there or help me find myself, because before all that, I was completely lost. I guess it all spawned from one day when everything turned sour. That particular day started with gossip and ended in an exorcism. One single day, is the main reason I ran far from everything, why I ran to Hawaii.
I'm not sure how the rumors started. I couldn't even tell you who set them in motion. All I know is that they exploded in history class. People talked as if I wasn't there. I heard them whispering. "Did you hear about Bible Girl?"
Eager silence followed before the voices hissed louder. I didn't want to hear their words and instead of facing my problems, I stared at the chalkboard. It blurred in my vision. The history of England changed to a mushy river as I pretended I wasn't in the room. I couldn't believe how callous my classmates could be. I put my hand by my neck and calmed my breathing. Their judgment stayed behind me though, deliberating over what I'd done. I closed my hot eyes and tears split across my cheeks. I blinked, once, twice, but the chalkboard still looked blurry.
"And to think, she always talked about Jesus."
I saw myself burning in the fires of Hell. I just knew I'd go there because of my poor choices. I'd been a good Christian and then ruined it all, my reputation, my salvation . . . everything.
I couldn't swallow. As much as I tried, my throat wouldn't cooperate. I sat, fighting with my own nerves when one of the cutest boys in school bent down next to my desk. I wiped my eyes and glanced away to the right. My hand slid to the side of my face and blocked him from seeing my tears. He asked me a question, one single question that would haunt me for years.
I couldn't breathe. That damn chalkboard looked like it was right next to my face. The ceiling and the walls pulsed closer. The cynical voices grew too loud and I wanted to scream.
The cute guy next to me closed one eye and pointed. I focused on his hand and told myself to calm down. "I know why you did it." He stroked his chin.
I wouldn't let him see me cry. I wouldn't show those kids my weakness, but I knew I was about to explode. I burst past the jerk, slammed my homework on the teacher's desk and left.
It wasn't that my life was bad. It really wasn't. A bunch of things just spiraled out of control. Maybe it was my three jobs, one of which kept me up until two in the morning. Or maybe my ailing faith and the two best friends I'd lost. Whatever the problem, everything had gone incredibly wrong, all in a matter of weeks.
I bet you're wondering why a Bible Girl could be so unhappy. What could make someone stuff clothes in their locker and want to run away? I guess it wouldn't make sense to an outsider, not at this point. That's probably because I'm starting in the wrong place. I should go back a couple years earlier, to when things were simple. Back when I had unending faith and the innocence of a saint.
I guess where this story really starts is when I met a guy in the trunk of a car. It was quite romantic, in a funny sort of way. So, let’s go back to when I was fifteen and thought I was in love.