On My Own (21 page)

But then I pray that God will strengthen me as well as help Josh to understand this whole thing. And I'm thinking:
If this relationship is wrong for me, then it has to be wrong for Josh too.
Isn't that obvious? So I just hope he can see this too. And maybe he'll even be thankful; maybe we can still be friends. And although I know I must keep giving the whole thing up (to get rid of all those roots), I still fight against this faint hope
that in due time (God's time, of course) He will restore our relationship–better than ever. But you never know; He may not. And I know I have to be able to accept this possibility–joyfully. The amazing thing is I almost think I can.

Still no word from Josh. Thankfully I didn't even get an e-mail from him today. I responded to the one from him yesterday with a quick not saying I couldn't talk just then, but that he should watch for my letter. I've been praying for him off and on all day. I absolutely hate the idea of me hurting him in any way. And it makes me realize how wrong it was for me to accept that ring in the first place. I mean, it was a serious commitment that I entered into way too lightly. Even at the time I said “yes,” I know I didn't have perfect peace in my heart. I realize that now with twenty-twenty hindsight, but I should've known it was God's way of checking me then. Unfortunately I was uncheckable. And that bothers me a lot.

The one good thing is that it makes me want to press into God more than ever before. I don't ever want to be that spiritually dense again. Never! I realize I was probably just caught up in the moment, swept away by the fun and glamour and what have you …but really, is that any kind of excuse? And although I realize God forgives me, and I'm ever so thankful for that, I also feel that I need
Josh to forgive me as well. And, yes, I need to forgive myself.

Despite these worrisome feelings, I still have a deep sense of peace. I totally
know
without a shadow of doubt that I did the right thing. But it's a peace mixed with sadness–or maybe it's remorse–that I allowed myself (and poor Josh) to get into this situation to start with. Oh, it's so much easier to avoid mistakes in the first place than to clean them up afterward. Hearts and feelings are not easily mended, I fear.

Ironically, tomorrow is Valentine's Day–the big day to celebrate romance and true love. It's as if this day has arrived just in time to mock me–to make me feel regret or stupidity or anger. But I refuse to give in to it. I know (despite my tumultuous feelings) that I AM obeying God. And even though it's not always “fun” to obey, it's still right and good and, in the end, very, very worthwhile. So I am just tuning out the hearts and cupids and chocolates and flowers. My heart belongs to God.

And as fate (or God) would have it, I still haven't heard a single word from Josh. I suppose it's possible he hasn't received my letter or perhaps hasn't had time to read it. However, I don't think that's likely. And since he has noticeably NOT e-mailed me, I'm afraid he's gotten the letter and is just too plain angry or hurt or maybe both to speak to me. Oh, I feel so bad about this whole
thing. I just want it to be over. And, yes, I wish–oh, man, how I wish that I'd never, ever said that fateful “yes.”

I think this day will go down on record as the most horrible, detestable, unforgettable, despicable, unendurable, torturous Valentine's Day ever (at least for me, that is). I'm sure some people are having a good time. Like Liz, for instance. She has a box of chocolates and a single red rose sitting on her desk right now. And kim told me that despite Lindsey's “too young” speech, she and Stephen are now talking about getting engaged. And I suspect that kim is head over heels for Bryce these days, although she hasn't admitted as much. It's like the whole world is in love!

To make matters worse, I hadn't wanted to tell anyone about breaking up with Josh–not until I heard back from him, that is. Which I haven't. And it's driving me nuts! I can't stand it. I feel like I'm going to burst if he doesn't call or e-mail or respond somehow–and soon.

Liz walked into our room this afternoon to find me pacing and literally wringing my hands. And despite my promise to myself (to remain silent until I hear from Josh), I sat down and tearfully poured out the whole embarrassing story to her. And, honestly, as soon as it was done I felt totally lame–like maybe I was “casting my pearls before swine” since she's obviously not a believer and I had just stupidly shared the most intimate contents of my heart–giving her an open invitation to stomp all over them. But the cool thing is,
she didn't.
To my stunned amazement, she turned out to be a really understanding listener. And she never gloated or said “I told you so”–which she could've since she had, from the beginning, thought it was a dumb idea.

“Well, I know we don't believe in the same things,” she began in what seemed a careful manner, especially for Liz, “but somehow what you're saying actually makes sense to me. And for what it's worth, I think you did the right thing.”

“Really?” I wiped my nose and stared at her curiously. The fact that Liz thought I'd done the right thing could be both comforting and frightening at the same time. And at that moment, I wasn't quite sure how to feel.

“Do
you
think you did the right thing?”

I sniffed. “Actually, I really do. I mean, once I'd mailed that letter, I felt a real sense of peace return to my heart.”

She nodded. “As a casual observer, I have to admit that you didn't seem quite yourself after Christmas
break. I suppose we're both changing, and maybe I'm seeing things somewhat differently, but you just seemed–well, sort of unhappy, I guess.”

“You could actually see that?”

She nodded. “Something in your eyes was different.”

“Wow. That's amazing.”

She laughed. “I may not be a Christian, but I'm not blind either.”

We talked a little bit more, and then she left to meet Conrad for their special Valentine's date. And I've been sitting by the phone, trying to study, but more distracted than ever. It's so weird to think of Josh having received that letter by now, having read it, possibly reacting to it, and yet saying nothing to me. And on top of that, here it is Valentine's Day! I almost wonder if he might be trying to punish me. Should I e-mail him? Call him? What? Or do I wait for him? I don't know what to do, but I'm praying that God will show me. Soon!

Josh made a startling appearance on campus today. I could've actually fainted when Liz opened the door and I heard his voice speaking as plain as day.

“Hi, I'm Josh Miller,” he said politely. “Is this Caitlin O'Conner's room?”

Fortunately, he couldn't see me because of the door, and it took me a few seconds to compose myself and find my voice.

“Josh?” I stepped out and tried to smile, although I'm sure it looked foolish and my knees felt like noodles. “What are you–?”

“We need to talk, Caitlin.” His expression was hard and cold and very unJoshlike.

“Yeah, okay. Let me get my coat.” I grabbed my coat, also picking up the little blue velvet box that had been sitting on my desk for the last week. I slipped it into my pocket and joined him in the hallway, not failing to notice Liz giving me a nod of encouragement as I exited the room.

Soon we were outside, walking silently in the cold evening air. I wasn't sure if I could even speak intelligibly, and my stomach felt as if it had risen to my throat, but somehow I suggested we duck into the coffee shop, or maybe it was his idea. Anyway we got there, somehow.

“You …uh …you got my letter,” I stammered once we were seated with steaming mugs of coffee before us. Of course, it was obvious he'd gotten my letter. But what was I supposed to say? I felt totally disoriented, like a fish out of water. To be perfectly honest, at this awkward point, I even wondered if he wasn't here to try to talk me out of this whole breaking up thing.

Embarrassingly enough, I think I almost hoped he was! I almost hoped I'd say something like: “Oh, that letter was all just a silly mistake, Josh. I'm so sorry; I guess I must've gotten cold feet. I never should've written it.” And it scares me to the depths of my soul to think I actually thought those very words, but that is
the honest-to-God truth! And He knows it.

“That was some letter.” He pressed his lips together then took a slow sip of coffee.

I took a deep breath. “Did you understand what I was saying?”

“I'm not stupid, Caitlin. You made everything perfectly clear.”

“And you're …uh …okay?”

He shrugged. “What am I going to do?”

I looked down at the overhead lights reflecting on the surface of my coffee. Suddenly it felt as if a heavy weight was pressing down on my chest, almost as if I couldn't breathe. I knew I had to say something. “I'm sorry if I hurt you–”

“Don't be.”

“But, Josh–”

“Caitlin, you did what you thought God told you to do, right?”

I looked up at him. His eyes still had that strange, hardened look. “Yes, but–”

“No buts. If you did what God told you to do, who am I to argue?”

“I don't want to argue. I just want to talk–”

“There's nothing more to say.”

“Then why did you come here?”

He looked at me, and it seemed as if his blue eyes were softening, just a little. “I wanted to see you face-to-face-just to see.”

“To see?”

He exhaled loudly then set down his mug with a loud thump. “Oh, I don't know. I guess I hoped I'd see something–I don't know what.”

I reached for his hand, but he moved it. “Josh, I'm really sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“But this just feels all wrong.”

He laughed but not a happy laugh. “And you expect it to feel–what? All right? Good and nice and happy?”

“No, but, not–not like this.”

He started to stand now. “I really don't have anything else to say.”

“But–”

“I'm going to see if I can spend the night with Stephen tonight.” He pushed the stool back in and squared his shoulders, but I could see his eyes glistening with tears. “You need me to walk you back?”

I shook my head, trying to swallow back my own tears. Then I remembered the ring. I pulled the box out of my pocket. “Here.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just keep it.”

“But I don't want–”

“Look, I certainly don't want it. I don't care what you do with it. Okay?” And then he turned and left.

I stayed in the coffee shop a little longer, too stunned to leave. And it felt as if my heart were splitting in two, right then. I mean, it physically felt like it was tearing apart. And as excruciatingly painful as that felt, I still could sense that quiet reassuring peace within me.
It's hard to describe how you can feel peace and pain like that, simultaneously, but somehow I did.

I prayed with each step as I walked back to the dorm. I prayed that God would help Josh through this whole thing and that somehow He would strengthen Josh because of it. And I prayed the same thing for me.

Liz was gone when I returned, but there was a little chocolate kiss on my desk with a Post-it note that said, “sorry.” I knew it was her way to make me feel better, but I burst into tears just the same.

I cried for a long, long time. Why? Not because I was losing Josh. No, I knew I'd already lost him–back when I mailed that letter. No, I cried because I realized my own responsibility in this whole thing. It was largely my fault that Josh was hurting so badly right now. Sure, he may have been the one to bring the whole covenant thing up to me. But I was the one who said yes. Oh, if only I'd said no. Maybe we could've just discussed the whole thing openly right then, and maybe we'd still be friends now. I'm afraid we'll never be friends again. I think that's part of what hurts so much tonight.

And yet God's peace remains. Without that I'm sure I'd have died from the pain.

Next week is finds week
, and to say I'm relieved would be a huge understatement. This has been a hard term in several ways. But I suppose having an overload of classes was something of a relief in itself. Being so busy gave me less time to fret over the way things went with my breakup with Josh. I haven't seen or spoken to him since that chilly night in February almost a month ago. Although I have heard (through Chloe) that he's kept himself busy with school too. And (she thinks) he's still pretty bummed by the whole thing.

“Josh is used to always having things go his way,” she explained during her unexpected visit last weekend. (She'd hopped on a bus just to come cheer me up.) “And I'm sure he still hasn't gotten over the shock of being rejected.”

“I didn't exactly reject
him
, not personally anyway,” I
said, knowing it made little sense. “I mostly rejected the idea of being tied to him after God corrected me about the whole thing. I knew it was wrong to stay with Josh when I realized our relationship was taking priority over my relationship with God. I still think Josh is a really great guy.”

“Oh, I know that. But maybe God is using this whole thing to teach him something important.”

I smiled. It still strikes me as funny, or maybe just ironic, to hear such words of wisdom spouting from this fifteen-year-old mouth. But then that's Chloe.

Liz actually got a kick out of my young friend. (She couldn't believe she was the little sister of “that preppy Josh” as Liz still calls him after only one brief encounter–although she did admit he was “rather nice looking.”) Anyway, Liz didn't even mind the extra roommate bunking on our floor that Saturday night.