I was trying to figure out the other day how many dates I actually went on during my three years in high school and came up with nine. Then there were three times I asked a girl to help me with a photography assignment or contest; if I were to count those that would mean 12 dates. Oh, but then there was that time I got together with a girl to talk on her front lawn.
Then I counted up the dates I went on between my high school graduation and when I left on my LDS mission, and for that I came up with ten. Here, as well, there were at least a couple of other get-togethers of one kind or another that could possibly be counted.
What constitutes an actual date? Certainly a dance, a movie, or anything where a meal is involved. But what about just taking a walk, or walking to park and taking pictures? Would it be a date if you just got together to talk? How long does the time spent together have to be?
In any case, however a date is defined, I went on at least as many dates during the seven odd months before I entered the Missionary Training Center as I did during the previous two and a half years. If I had it to do over again, I think I would want to go on at least one date, and probably not more than two or three, with as many different girls as possible.
I also would be sure not to avoid dating for that year from the beginning of my Junior year to the end of the following summer. I would have taken Mary out on a date to make up for not going to the prom, and I might have taken Evelyn on another date as well, so we could both have a good time.
Most of all, perhaps, I would have found a way not to be hung up on Julie for so long. At one point that final spring, when some trouble arose, I told myself I was walking away. As usual, however, I could not stay away. Against all logic, perhaps, I continued to try and be her friend.
One day at church I said “hi” to Julie and asked her how she was doing. She responded that she was not doing well because moving away meant she would never see a certain friend again. I did not think that she meant me.
In the last part of June I called her up and opened old wounds. Perhaps it was the knowledge that time was running out that prompted me to call her. She agreed to talk one last time and I went over to her house.
As we sat on her lawn, I asked Julie if she had ever liked me. She replied by saying that she had only been trying to be a good neighbor. It was an understatement, I believe, but it is also likely that nothing more than simple friendship was ever intended. For my part, I confessed, with some emotion, that there were times when I still wanted her. While I did find her attractive, I think I meant that I still wanted her to like me as much as I liked her.
It was around this time that I stumbled on something I doubt I was intended to see. I happened to be on the stage at my ward house where I saw a drawing on a blackboard. It turned out to be a rather unflattering picture of me. In thought bubbles surrounding the drawing were statements I was supposedly making that further painted me in a bad light. Some of the statements appeared to regard me and Julie -- one portrayed me as some kind of cheapskate. At least some of the statements, as well as some aspects of the drawing, were not appropriate for the setting.
There can be no doubt that Julie had been hurt by my inability to let go. She paid a price for my ignorance and naivete, and my selfishness. I told myself that I did not want to hurt her, but I was concerned mostly with my feelings. I never put her happiness ahead of my own. I tried walking away multiple times, but mostly to spare my feelings. I never considered walking away and staying away for the sake of her feelings.
Finally, in the last week of July, Julie and her family moved away, out of the state. Later that night, I went out for a walk and soon found myself on her street. It was after 10:00 pm, and I stood in the shadows across the street from her house for awhile. After another look at the past I whispered "Goodbye, Julie." Then I started walking home.
It was finally over; I would never see her again.
A little more than a year later, I was in Seaside, California, the second area I would serve in on my mission. One day we accepted a lunch invitation from one of the stake missionaries in the ward we were assigned to. This was a man I had developed some affinity for as he dealt with certain physical challenges with an amazingly positive attitude. He asked me to bless the food and I felt inspired to ask for a special blessing on him.
That night, as I lay in bed, I contemplated the events of the day. I began to think of Julie, Mary and Evelyn. I thought, also, of another girl that I had asked on several dates before leaving on my mission. There were other things I thought of, as well, and I believe that as I did so I was taught by the spirit about love. I realized that Julie had been right when she said that I did not love her. I realized that I knew so little about love and the power of the word. I felt that I had so much to learn.
Having come to the realization that I had not loved Julie, I began to think more about her, wishing that someday I might have the opportunity to apologize for the pain that I had caused her.
A few years after returning from my mission, however, I learned that Julie had passed away. This only deepened my regret, for now I would never be able to apologize to her.
A few years later I started typing up my old journals. I spent a lot of time trying to remember details I had not previously included. One day I found myself daydreaming about running into Julie. In my daily walks I found myself talking to Julie, trying to explain and apologize.
Not long after that I went to see a licensed family therapist, and I found myself talking about Julie and my regrets. The therapist suggested that Julie was my unicorn; she was something impossible that I wanted and could not let go of. The idea made a big difference to me and I think I finally found some peace regarding Julie.
On at least two other occasions since high school, I have found myself in situations where I had to walk away. One girl I was interested in needed some space for a time. Later, an old friend would ask me to walk away. It was not easy either time, in fact, it was among the hardest things I have had to do in my life. Because of Julie, or rather the lesson of my experiences with her, I found the strength to do what I had to. The first time it was only for two months, but the second time would turn into four years.
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