Prom: It Could Have Been You

We were so close yet so far away
I'd reach out, you'd be gone
Moments that still talk my breath away
There's so much more to life than loving you
You don't need me, no...

In August of 1986 I had the idea of asking Julie to get together and do something -- just as friends.  Maybe I caught her on a bad day because it was one of the times that I got a negative answer. She could have said something about me dating girls in my own class.  It had been over six months since Mary had cancelled on the junior prom, but I still had not asked a girl out on a date -- although, technically, I had just asked Julie out.  Mary and Julie, by the way, were in the same class, the one ahead of mine.

Whatever happened, I found myself in a mood to give up on being friends with her.  I went to her house one day and we talked on her porch. I said that I had come to say goodbye. “I can’t wait all my life on a street of broken dreams,” I said.

She came right back with “What dream? To have Julie?” This knocked me back, and I had no response. Only later would I think of what I should have said, “No, that she might like me as much as I like her.”

When I recovered, we talked it out and I’m sure I explained again that I was going to wait until after my mission to have a relationship. We must have made some kind of peace that day because in the fall I would ask her out on a date and she would say yes.

I had borrowed that line about broken dreams from a song on the recently released Journey album Raised on Radio.

I can't wait all my life, on a street of broken dreams
It could have been you my love (where are you now)
Oh I still wonder if you remember the night
It could have been you.

At the end of September, I finally went on a date when I asked Linda to the Homecoming Dance.  Linda was in my ward and in the class behind mine.  We were friends because she approached me at a football game the previous year to say "hi".  The next spring she invited me to an end of the school year party she put on for her friends.

We went into Salt Lake with some of her friends to have dinner before coming back to the school where the dance was being held.  After taking Linda home, I realized that I forgot to give her the claim ticket for her set of photos. The next day after church I dropped by her house to give it to her. We had a brief conversation about the dance and told each other how much we enjoyed it. As I drove home I was struck by the serendipity of the moment, and at future dances I would deliberately keep something so I could have the excuse to go see the girl the next day.

A few weeks later I called Julie and asked her to go to a Braves football game with me. She said yes and I thought we had a good time. After the game we drove around for a bit and then stopped at a park – the one I at which I had taken pictures of her more than a year before. We sat on the swings and reminisced about stake dances, the prom and other events.

On reflection, this might not have been a good idea. It was early yet, and there was no point in hurrying home, but she might not have liked talking about the past. Going to that particular park might also have been a mistake. Not long after this we were having a disagreement and I asked if we could go for a walk in order to talk it out. Julie said that she did not want to because we would just end up at that park talking about "us" – by which she meant the past, because the present “us” was what we needed to talk about.

Time washes over, memories
I can't look back no more
Change has forsaken, our promises
There's someone else for you to hold again
So please stop your crying

In late November or early December I called Julie up and suggested that we get together to talk and play some games.  She agreed and we decided that she would come over to my house that Saturday.  The day came, but Julie never showed.  I thought that perhaps she had forgotten or might have been sick, so I called her up on Monday to see about rescheduling.  Her response was to suggest that I date girls in my own class.

We were right back to where we had been in August, but this time, instead of going by her house to talk it out, I wrote her a letter.  I said it was clear that we could not be friends, so this was a goodbye letter.  Then I did something really silly, I mailed it to her.  It was not very long before I regretted sending that letter.

I called her to try and talk, and soon I was calling her every week, sometimes even twice a week.  Today we have a term for this: "stalking".  We argued for weeks this way about the meaning of friendship.  To her credit, through all of the phone calls, she never simply hung up on me. She always answered when I called (usually at the same time as the previous week). She always gave me time, even as we couldn't agree on anything.

Perhaps calling her up to make a date was not a good idea, but she said yes, only to stand me up without explanation. Her comment about dating other girls my age was a slap in the face, as well. So once again I tried to forget about Julie, and once again I failed to do so.

She might have said yes when I asked her out, first for the football game and then for the get together at my house, because she was afraid of what I might do if she said no. Perhaps she just wanted to avoid a repeat of what happened the previous August.

At one point I wrote Julie another letter.  In this one I explained what I thought a friend should be and then apologized to her.  After a week a called her up to get her response.  At first she said she'd still like to be friends, a declaration I should have accepted, which would have allowed both of us to walk away.  But I worried that we would be friends in name only, and soon enough I all but talked her out of it.

I can't wait all my life, on a street of broken dreams
It could have been you my love (where are you now)
Oh I still wonder if you remember the night
It could have been you

A month went by where I did not call Julie even once.  One day during that break, I called Linda to ask for her advice.  She said that instead of just throwing it all away, I should just back off.  I should say "hi" when I saw her, but I should not go out of my way to see her.

As it happened, I did not have to go out of my way.  Every Sunday at church, Julie would sit with her family almost right in front of the Sacrament table, and I was blessing the Sacrament almost every week.

Finally, I called her again and said that the only thing I wanted was peace, and Julie was able to agree to at least that much.  Then I told her that I had very strong feelings for her, that I was in love with her.  She responded by saying that it was just a school boy crush.  I said that I had had school boy crushes on other girls and that this was different.

Still, Julie was right when she said that I did not love her. I was not putting her happiness before mine; all that I could think about were my feelings. If I ever worried about hurting her it was mostly because I was afraid of losing her. Her welfare was never really a concern to me – yes, I didn't want to hurt her, but I didn't want to hurt anybody.

I did not want to lose her, be it as a friend or something more, and I refused to give up when I should have simply walked away. As noted, my feelings for Julie were very strong, and I never knew how to deal with them. What I had was more than just a schoolboy crush; what I did not have was love, and the day would come when I would know full well that I did not.

The previous year, after I had asked Mary to the prom, something started stirring me up regarding Julie.  This time it seemed that something was stirring us both up.  Still, peace had been agreed to, and for the moment, at least, the crisis was over.

During the crisis, another prom had come and gone.  This time I was able to make and keep a date for the dance.

Song lyrics: "It Could Have Been You" (1986) Schon, N., Perry, S. & Cain, J.