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My first memory of meeting Jason is flooding across my mind like waterfalls through rushing lava. Had he stormed my mind at birth and shoved me into my soul before I could escape?
Home in the country just outside of Madison. He was a slight, tallish boy. Handsome, fully committed and clear headed. Why wouldn't I have fallen for him?
A new member in the small, but growing Holiness Pentecostal community. That meant something in our community; it meant that he was a believer and a prize in our community.
My eyes were on him. I watched his every move, wanting to know more about him. I would find out more, much more.
We grew up, he and I. He for the most part distant in my life, but always present in spirit as he worked in an office as a county official in Lincoln.
My world would be turned upside down and inside out, when he gave us a visit in Oxford. If Madison was his home, Lund was mine.
Why would I have thought Lund and not Madison? That is the way of it. He was the most handsome boy in high school and out. He carried himself with grace and class, everything about him was calm, mature and quiet.
He never noticed me, except when I came to Lund to visit friends. I would sit at their table and be by myself. He would find me, smile and walk over.
Never once did he ask me to go anywhere else. Always he came to me.
I was jealous and envious. He was more my type, more handsome I thought him to be.
He was much more successful with girls, than he was in school. He would always get our senior class's prettiest girl. He would always be the center of attention.
Never once did I say anything to him, nothing but friendly words. I was in awe of his success. I always thought, he was the luckiest boy in the school. He was indeed beautiful.
My heart would sing when I saw him walking towards me. The sun would shine through the clouds and form rays of light on his skin, leaving trails of light in his hair like fire. The sun would turn his face an amber, golden hue.
His eyes were dark brown onyx. His eyes were dark and intense. He was handsome and in control. He was strong and mine.
My attraction for him only deepened when I noticed he would sit by me and talk at times. He took up my time away from the others. We always had a clear agenda when we were together, we always thought about it together.
Our friendship deepened and our time together built. We talked for hours about every subject, about everything that came to our minds. We laughed and joked, we talked about our dreams, our parents and our future together. He had mine in his hands.
We would talk about him and his wife . . . . . . . . . . . . . We talked about his wife. It was always at times such as those.
It was always at times like those, when my interest in him took on a life of its own. I didn't understand my feelings or his feelings. I told myself repeatedly to leave him be. Yet, I would listen, smile and nod.
He would tell me about his wife. Why I don't know. She seemed so uncomfortable around me, as she was always busy. I sensed there was much more to her life than I or he wanted me to know. I would look at the floor and respond.
He would tell me about their two children. I would usually listen, with a smile to finish my sentences and then look up a question. He didn't tell me many things about his family. I also sensed there was something mysterious about his wife.
We began to talk about God, and how much I loved him. I asked how I could love and worship a God who would allow this. He explained to me and I understood. He had never told me before.
We talked about our views and the differences. He was clear he said. I wondered why he wanted to talk to me about the object of his affection. He was bright and happy, and had made a man out of himself and me. We talked. He loved his God and his church.
I only wished and dreamed of him.
He was a man of excellent qualities, good features and handsome as could be.
"Something inside me stirred in him; it was something that made an impression on me forever. I was shocked when it showed up.", to love him, to adore him, and to want him, one day to be my wife and him my husband.
I was alone and broke, Jason was rich, he had it all. I loved him, I knew he loved me, but there was one thing I could not have. It was an abusive marriage.
I wasn't physically, but emotionally abused. Keeping my distance from him, pleased me, so I hid my feelings, my passion and my anguish for him. I never dared to show my true colors.
I prayed and knew there was something missing. God told me to confess, to trust, he would help me find the missing pieces.
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