October 1994

We'd always cheer if a glass got broken in Bossard; it was done during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years. I didn't usually cheer myself, just laughed at the cheering; maybe I clapped sometimes, I don't remember. I think I broke one myself, once. The sad thing was, senior year, almost nobody cheered the broken glasses! You'd hear the faintest "yay," probably from a senior jock or somebody, but nothing from anyone else. It seemed as if the freshmen didn't know the traditions and didn't care. It was sad and wrong! (Of course, in 1998 I would discover a Roanoke jock on a S-- BBS, and he would tell me that people did cheer the broken glasses again, and the tradition had continued. This was good to know.)

One day that semester, my friends and I went to Sonlight Books in S--, and we saw my old suitemate Tom there! He cried out when he saw me, grinned, and chatted with me for a few minutes. He was with a woman, I didn't know who--sister? girlfriend? wife? I kind of hoped she wasn't his girlfriend (or wife), because here was a Christian guy who most likely wouldn't treat me wrong. After the way he'd changed, with the way he'd turned into this dynamic Christian, and the things he'd said and done before and after Peter broke up with me, I didn't think he would treat me bad in any way. But I didn't know if I'd meet him again, or if I was really that interested. It was still too soon after the breakup.

After all this time, we finally got a peephole on our apartment door! Now we could know if the person knocking--no, banging--no, slamming his/her fist against the door and scaring us all to heck was a crazed Zeta, or just our friend Mike, or even Astrid--she was known to do that, too. (By the way, we found that amusing.) Now that we had our PEEP-hole, after having ordered it so long ago (that was Roanoke maintenance for you), Tara liked to say, "We have our PEEP-hole!" And we now liked to say, "Let's look out the PEEP-hole! and see who it is!"

Once, Jennifer and Sharon played a game on Pearl's computer. It had a kid who went through all the usual game levels and trials and shot things, a game which seemed to be related to the game Phil had bought that summer with a kid who made a spaceship in his backyard and flew to Mars. Once you got to a certain level on Pearl's game, a homicidal Energizer Bunny tried to kill you. Pearl said Jennifer and Sharon used to play it together all the time junior year. Two people could play it at once, and they'd sing, "Kill the rabbit, kill the RABbit, kill the RABbit!" I believe this song came from a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

Once again, I took down Phil's pictures and mementos, and put Benny back in the closet. I hated putting him in there, since it wasn't his fault and I've always had a tendency of anthropomorphizing stuffed animals. But I just couldn't look at him without crying. Sometimes I would have him on the bed and whisper to him to tell his daddy to come home, sometimes he would be a comfort to me, but usually I couldn't bear to have him around. Peter's gifts to me no longer bring me grief, and I can have them around if I wish, even smile at them. But memories of Phil are so awful for me that I cannot stand to have Benny around. In fact, when we moved in October of 1998, I found and threw out the rose stand of Phil's first rose to me (Valentine's Day 1994. Mom has Benny now, and my niece plays with him.

One day my co-worker Megan and I chatted at the desk as we often did, and I said it was supposed to be a Christian college. And she said, "Roanoke isn't a Christian college. If it was, I wouldn't have come here." (Which supported our argument that Roanoke wasn't as Christian as it claimed. This wasn't just a conservative argument, by the way: Astrid and Mike agreed, and they were UCC. Yet when I made the argument in a paper junior year, the teacher marked up my paper, saying I was wrong.)

The "comfy chair" in the library was the one on the right behind the front desk. Junior year we had that chair, which was padded, and a stool-like metal chair with a tiny back that didn't lift me up very high on the desk. It was hard to write while sitting on that chair without sitting on one leg, and I felt very short. In the comfy chair, I still crossed my legs, sat on one leg, or double-crossed my legs--all very comfortable--but it was more for comfort than for height. Senior year, we may have gotten a new, comfier chair and moved the old comfy chair to the left side, which would have been a great improvement. I don't remember now.

Megan said the person in the comfy chair had to answer the phone, so when I was there, I had to jump up and answer. She was the rookie freshman and I'd been working there a year already, yet she kept telling me how to do my job. The rest of us had fun giving back the remarks she gave us. The library clerk was really good at that, so I wondered if he disliked her.

Megan also said I didn't answer the phone right. When it was on-campus I'd say "Library," always wishing I could say, "libr'y!" like the British do. It would be much quicker and funnier. When it was off-campus I'd say, "Roanoke College Library." Megan said for on-campus I should say who was speaking, and for off-campus I should say that along with, "Hello." I thought I answered the phone just fine.

Who could it be? At first I thought it was Phil, come to make up with me. It turned out to be a blonde with short hair, one of Peter's exes, dressed in the white plastic Food Service apron. I'd never met any of his other girlfriends before, and I didn't know how she knew about me. Did Mike's mom tell her, or did Peter? Hopefully it was Mike's mom! Last I knew Peter and I were on good terms, and he had said he was wrong to treat me the way he did, but I probably still feared what he'd say to subsequent girlfriends about me, especially after the things he told Phil and Phil's mom.

On October 2, I went to Immanuel Bible Church with Pearl, driven by a middle-aged (or older) man who went to the church. (We were to go there several times during the semester. It was far too conservative for me, though I had no idea until reviewing the website just now, just how conservative it was. I would have--metaphorically--run screaming if I'd known! I wanted to go to the Evangelical Free church, but our driver had graduated. So I went wherever I could, whenever I could--that is, until I got too used to sleeping in.) Once, possibly this first time we went, we passed Phil on the road as we left Roanoke. He saw me, and I think he smiled at me. I just sat there, stunned.

I started putting Dolphin Philosophy, complete with my usual drawing of a frolicking dolphin, on the message board we had by the bathroom door. This was what I wrote on 10/2/94, something Darwin said on SeaQuest DSV: "Darwin scared. People bad!" In a return to sophomore and junior year practices, I also started drawing little beetles on the board as well, every now and then.

Around this time, I'd look around at couples who'd been together a couple of years, and wonder, Will I ever have a lasting relationship, one that won't fizzle out before the end of a year? I'd look at people who were engaged or married and had been together for several years or more, and wonder, Will I ever last in a relationship long enough to get married and spend most of my life with a guy?

We had Cinemax and HBO in the apartments. But then at the general meeting for all the apartments, the meeting in which our Resident Assistant (RA) gave us cleaning supplies, somebody mentioned we were getting Cinemax and HBO. The RA told us not to tell anybody from other residence halls, or they'd get jealous and complain. Soon after, the cable guy hooked up our bedrooms so we could get cable outside of the living room. (Without cable, not one channel came in on campus.) We discovered that Cinemax and HBO were now scrambled. We feared this would happen!

I found one of my small packing boxes. I put in it the game "Crack the Case," some mementos and pictures of Phil that he'd given me, and the porcelain bird. (I kept very little.) I also put in the books and pencils he'd left behind that night he made the final decision to divorce me, and I included the bowl and spoon he'd left behind on the previous weekend. I had cleaned them; I may have cleaned them before the final decision. Otherwise, I can imagine being tempted to keep them dirty. I put in a note that said simply, "These are some things of yours. I can't keep the bird anymore." I found our marriage contract, ripped it in two, and put it on the top.

I sent these to him through the campus mail. I remember packing the box in the living room by the TV, and Sharon might have been there. Sharon thought sending the bird back (and I think the ripped-up contract) was a good move that showed him I was breaking with him. I'd been tempted, even encouraged by my friends, to break the porcelain bird, but a dream told me I'd regret doing this. Instead, I gave it back to him, getting it off the living room shelf and out of my life forever. It's sad that that woman's piece of art ended up meaning what it did to me.

Phil found me the next day, probably around the fifth, on my way back to the apartment after lunch. He mentioned the "torn-up paper" and had a long talk with me. He was very civil, though he wasn't exactly kind. He seemed offended by the torn-up marriage contract, even though he had been the one to nullify it. He told me he was interested in doing something with Persephone. He said he was going dancing on Saturday night in Fond du Lac--which we had planned to do together--and he was going to take her along. I think he was going there with a group.

He also said, "It was never 'us.'" What a cruel thing to say! And what was it supposed to mean? To discount the past eight months, to discount our entire marriage, like they meant nothing! I don't think I said much to that. We also talked about how maybe in the future we'd be ready for each other, and I said I just wondered, how long? (At the crack of doom, I guess.) I came back in the apartment and cried.

I later got the impression that he and Persephone went dancing in Fond du Lac all the time. It seemed like dancing in Fond du Lac was popular with S-- young people. It seems odd, because Fond du Lac kids talk like there's nothing to do here. And I believe the dance place where everybody went is now something else.

One time as I worked in the library, I sat folding Roanoke folders. I kept one for myself because they were free, and later on in my Winterim class, I decorated it with Celtic drawings and markers. Some guy dropped off these folders for us, just as he'd done the year before. I liked them, but one of the librarians hated them. She didn't like how they were made, the fact that they were unasked-for, and the fact that since they were dropped off in the library, we student workers had to spend time folding them. They were then left in a pile on the desk for anyone to take.

October 7-8. I went to the InterVarsity Lock-in at Mike's house. It was held in the basement, which was made up into a rec room, and in one corner was the door to Mike's bedroom. It was nice to be there with my friends and not see Phil at all, but I was also depressed. Persephone was there, and once asked me, "Is something wrong?" I didn't tell her it was Phil.

As for P, a freshman, he had a girlfriend, but was known as a womanizer. The girlfriend wasn't on campus. (Shortly before the end of the school year, according to Pearl, he said that his girlfriend taught him the value of a relationship without sex.) In her absence, he slept with whomever he could find. Spring Semester, Charles kept going on and on about him--P did this, P did that, P is so funny, P is so cool--so Pearl began saying, "I think Charles is in love with P." We'd laugh, especially since Charles was very much heterosexual.

We watched the Saved by the Bell movie which was aired that evening, in which the blond kid married his girlfriend, the girl with the lovely, long brown hair (which she later cut off! ergh! when she went to 90210). I didn't watch the show myself, but some of my friends did. I didn't like watching someone get married, though, after what had just happened. But I forced my feelings down so my friends could enjoy the movie.

We spent the night camped on sleeping bags, blankets and pillows on the floor in the basement. Once I got up to go to the bathroom, stepped around my friends, and reflected on how life went on without Phil, that I was doing this apart from him and still having a pretty good time.

Once, when we made an evening trip to Country Kitchen, one waitress kept banging drawers and, I think, snapping at us, so we thought she was having a nervous breakdown. (I don't think it was anything we did or said. Working at the S-- Country Kitchen at night is said to be very stressful because of groups that come in and sit and have something to drink but nothing more, making the place very busy but with small tips.)

October 8. My parents, fearing I was the same way now as I was when Peter first broke up with me, came up to see me. I, of course, was surrounded by friends, unlike the first time when all my new friends and everyone in the suite had gone home for Winterim Break; I forced myself to take it better and not go through the same crap I did when Peter broke up with me; and I was doing quite well. They noticed this, and I guess it made them feel better. Mom said I didn't need them quite as much as she'd thought I would. They took me to their hotel, and they also gave me this cute, little, musical white bear, to cheer me up. It had a diaper and a pillow, and its eyes were closed. When you pressed the diaper, it played "Frére Jacques" and other children's songs. The problem was, it got accidentally pushed a lot, and then Sharon and I had to listen to "Baa Baa Black Sheep" or some other little ditty at times when we would rather not. Other than this, my friends thought it was sweet of my parents to give me that, and cool to come up and see me during this difficult time.

On the morning of the 9th, I was still in bed when my parents turned on the TV. I woke up to the sound of an infomercial for Gary Smalley tapes on how to save a marriage and/or make it better--and he said that he'd even helped divorced couples get back together and build a stronger marriage than they'd had before. (This is probably the "Hidden Keys to Loving Relationships" infomercial described in the "About us" section of the above website.) Unfortunately, we didn't have a chance to get the number to order the tapes. But Mom and I did wonder at this strange coincidence, that this infomercial would be on now when I could see it, and if Phil and I were meant to get these tapes and rebuild our relationship. We thought so even more when, a few months later, I found the infomercial again while at school and got the number for her.

Now, however, I know it wasn't because we were meant to rebuild our relationship. Perhaps it was a chance given me by God to put this idea of using the tapes in front of Phil, and see if he would go for it. Perhaps it was to show me that Phil wouldn't do it and that he was not worth pursuing. Perhaps it was just to show me I was right that relationships can work if you work hard enough on them, even if they are what Phil would call a "dead horse." Maybe it was so I could tell Phil this and plant a seed or two in his heart which, if paid attention to, would show him counseling is sometimes necessary. Maybe it was so I would know that a relationship can be saved even when it seems hopeless. I got some ideas about why women act certain ways and why men act certain ways. I used them in a letter I wrote to Phil.

After one of the breakups and during one of our talks, I told Helene I might be interested in James (though by now I probably lost the big crush I used to have). She said, "Hmm! We'll have to see if he's available." It was someone besides Phil to think about, at least. There was also the Other Guy, of course, but Phil said he wasn't interested.

In the winter, I discovered that James hated Phil. I had to wonder if that was because Phil kept taking away his potential dates. First I asked James to a Pictionary party in the fall of 1993, then started dating Phil. Second, Persephone sent James a letter expressing her feelings in the fall of 1994, then started dating Phil. Finally, another girl, Brigitte, liked James by Winterim and tried to get his attention; fortunately, Phil never dated her.

It was a civil, kind letter, basically explaining the Gary Smalley tapes and what the relationship books and the Bible had taught me about marriage (particularly ours). It asked what he wanted to do about the tapes. I told him I had trouble understanding body language. I said I didn't want to have a secret marriage with anybody ever again, even to him. I said that if our problems weren't resolved, they'd carry on into other relationships (which, from what I heard of his subsequent relationships, was proven to be correct). I begged him to let the letter sit a couple of weeks before deciding, pray about it, and discuss it with friends who were happily married, strong Christians and knew what they were talking about.

October 12, 1994. I went out to the woods for a time, to be alone with nature and to pray. Nature can be soothing in times like these. I asked God to show me the way to peace and rest. I followed a dark path and found a dead end. I followed a sunny path, and found the elusive river. I thought God whispered to me, "Do you trust me?"--like Aladdin in the 1993 Disney cartoon. Then I heard the Bradley Clock, and had to turn back. I was supposed to meet Sharon before dinner. I got lost for about 15 or 20 minutes, which was fun, but made me late. Sharon left without me.

While walking back from the woods, I passed right by Phil on the sidewalk as he left Muehlmeier, where Persephone and Trina lived. We crossed paths and he went to the Campus Center as I headed back to the apartments to get Sharon for dinner. He said nothing to me, just walked past me, snubbing me, so I ignored and said nothing to him. I was right by him, close enough to touch, and saw and recognized the letter--the envelope, the thickness were the same--in his hand. He held nothing else.

I was furious with Phil. This letter had personal things in it, and it was quite likely he'd shown it to other people, especially after I'd specifically asked him not to talk about it to anyone who wasn't in a happy marriage (which, obviously, would be neither Persephone nor Trina, who weren't married). This apparent betrayal hurt me deeply. I also couldn't see why he would treat my letter as a personal offense. I still don't, when reading over the copy.

I didn't think of it at the time, but considering how mad he looked when I saw him, it's entirely possible that Persephone and Trina saw the letter, agreed that it was reasonable, and angered Phil by not agreeing with him. Of course, this is merely speculation, but it comes from a re-reading which I just did of the letter.

Charles broke up with Trina only a few weeks after school started, and probably by early October. It seems they met during Orientation Week and started dating before they met anyone else; now Charles said he no longer felt a "spark" for her. He didn't hate her or anything like that. Trina went through a short time of not wanting to be at the same table in Bossard with him, leaving soon after he'd sit down, but I don't think it was more than a few weeks.

Charles invited people to a party in his apartment, where he lived with Dirk and Carl, but Pearl and I were the only ones who showed up. We had a good time anyway, watching Field of Dreams (first time for me) and Loaded Weapon. We had popcorn and pop, and Charles was a courteous host, happy to see us and spend time with us. Dirk even came in at one point.

One evening at dinner, probably during the second full week of October, I sat at a table set apart from the other tables and took orders for candygrams for an IV fundraiser. I kept knocking on the table (some of my friends were around) and saying, like the Land Shark on a 70s episode of Saturday Night Live, "Candygram! Candygram!"

That night we put the candygrams together: suckers and lollypops with little messages, written and sometimes decorated by the people sending them. They were written on little cut-outs of shapes like footballs, hearts and circles. Sharon told me later, when I asked, that she saw the one that Persephone wrote to Phil. It read "Keep the faith," nothing ooey-gooey and "I love you"-like. This relieved me, though I couldn't figure out why Persephone would tell him the same thing he had recently told me. It wasn't as if he needed encouragement that we'd get back together. He was the dumper, after all, and chasing Persephone!

Now that Phil was gone, and I knew I would be allowed to marry again without committing adultery because I was the abandoned party, I let my crush on the Guy begin to grow. Why ever not? Sharon had a crush on him as well, but since neither of us had encouragement from the Guy, and he had rejected her late junior year, it didn't feel like a true rivalry. It just meant somebody with whom to gush over him.

Friday, October 14. At 2pm, I went to the Opening Ceremonies for the Great Lakes Writer's Festival in the Bradley Building. I stood up, as I'd done every year, when the Fessler Scholarship recipients were recognized. Then we heard readings by Lucien Stryk and Sapphire, both poets. Sapphire had been there before, but I missed her the first time. I just wished they'd had a novel writer there again as they'd done in previous years: one poet, one novelist. After all, I wrote and enjoyed some poetry, but my main love was novels and stories.

The weekend of the Writer's Festival was also the weekend of Homecoming, and later on my friends and I saw the "Lighting of the L." The "L" was just a piece of cardboard or metal with some lightbulbs on it that formed the shape of an "L," and it wasn't that big. All the administration did was put it in the yard outside the Campus Center, in the same place we had the first picnic freshman year (where I met Shawn), and turn on the lights. I remembered Sarah's laughing comments the year before, saying she had just seen the "Lighting of the L." I could now see why she laughed.

It was strange, but whenever I sat with my friends at lunch or dinner and Charles was there, I'd be a little nervous and happy that he was there. I'd hear him talk about asking girls out. He once wanted to ask a girl out but was disappointed, because she had a boyfriend and was upset over a recent fight with him (meaning she was off-limits). I would feel a little upset about this because I wanted him to notice me! I wasn't with Phil anymore, and Charles wasn't with Trina anymore, so if I wanted to act on the strange attraction I felt for Charles, I could. Before, when I was still with Phil and had just met Charles, I felt it and it was like forbidden fruit. Now it wasn't, but it was still enticing. Maybe I felt it because he was a decent guy.

One weekend around this time, probably on a Saturday, I was doing laundry--whites--when Charles came over with his best friend S--, who was visiting him for the weekend. The dryer got done and I had to go get my clothes and fold them, but I didn't want to leave the conversation in the living room. By the way, S-- was cute and had two earrings. He seemed like a nice guy with a good sense of humor. He also had a girlfriend, but that didn't matter to me because I liked Charles, anyway. I sat in the living room folding towels while we all talked and laughed about things, and I think my laundry was the object of one good-natured joke. I don't remember if I folded my underwear in front of them, or if I excused myself and went into the bedroom for that. I got the feeling that Charles liked me back, and that S-- knew about it and was, well, checking me out.

Friday night at 7:45 was the bonfire and pep rally, then the fireworks. Just before Homecoming, Pearl had gone to the hospital for surgery related to her physical disabilities, so we were forced to go to it without her. During the beautiful fireworks, loud rock songs played, such as the AC/DC song "Thunderstruck." The song seemed to fit well, and I went to another world, one with no Phil, just my friends and beauty and music. Charles joined us there; I stayed near him as we stood and watched the fireworks. Charles said, "I wish Pearl were here to see this," and we all agreed.

After this, the new Homecoming Tent was opened up for us on the lawn outside the lower level doors of the Campus Center, so we could go in and dance. It was a small tent, and I don't know if many people went to the dance, or how many would have fit in it. I went there with Mike and Charles. I don't remember where my other friends went.

Mike asked me to dance once, then started dancing like a muppet, but I didn't dance. This was outside the dance tent. We didn't like the music--rap, as usual--so we didn't stay long. We thought they should play alternative more, which people seemed to like, but it never got played. Lots of people complained about the music that was always played at these dances. When we were at the tent, we were the only ones there. I don't think I went inside.

Saturday night, after the Campus Cookout at 9pm, my friends and I (soon joined by Charles, to my glee) went into the tent not for a dance but for some entertainment. There was this guy there, Hammerhead, doing magic tricks, but I thought he got a little too verbally lewd with the female student who went up on stage to assist him. Then at ten was Pat McCurdy, who sang weird and funny songs. At one point, he did a song in which everyone was supposed to put their hands to their cheeks and join in whenever he yelled, "Makes me nervous!" It was his own song. I really liked that one. I especially liked when, before one song, he asked, "How many people here are in love tonight?" People clapped. Then he asked, "How many people here are in hate tonight?" I clapped hard for that one, thinking of Phil, who was apparently nowhere around that night. Persephone may have been there, though.

Now we had to deal with Charles's driving. He would speed like a maniac and call everybody who didn't a "putz." (That's the first time I ever heard that term.) He spent so much time getting mad and flipping people off and saying "you putz" that I would start to worry for the safety of us passengers in his little, black car.

At least I didn�t have to deal with Phil's driving anymore. He was an inattentive, erratic driver, possibly worse than Charles, often taking his hands off the steering wheel and dancing around. That's why Persephone and I both laughed when Persephone told me one day that he offered to drive a group of people to Fond du Lac for dancing. And one time junior year, Carrie told me she was waiting at a stopsign when she saw Phil and me in a minivan; Phil took the corner and almost hit her.

We had planned to go to Florida over Winterim with Pearl, whose parents would help pay. But now Pearl couldn't go, so her parents decided not to help us go to Florida. So we scrapped the Florida trip idea. At some point during the year, however, possibly Spring Break, they took Pearl to Florida as a family trip. We were jealous, of course. As it turned out, though, my taking a Winterim instead of going to Florida helped lead to meeting my future husband (and we went to Florida on our honeymoon). But more on that when the time comes.

We all sat down in Pearl's big, private room and watched some show about ways people got engaged and married. I felt a bit uncomfortable, thinking of Phil, probably wondering why these marriage shows were everywhere now, but tried to hide it. Charles said he liked tradition, and would go all out for his engagement and wedding: a buggy ride in the park, top hats, tuxedos. My other friends weren't too sure about tradition. I said, "What's wrong with tradition?" and Charles smiled at me.

I sat with Carrie and Elaine one evening at dinner, possibly on Tuesday the 18th. My roommies hadn't shown up yet. You may recall that Carrie was Catherine's roommate sophomore year. They didn't get along, so Carrie ended up with Elaine the following year. Elaine's parents used to be a priest and a nun. Carrie and Elaine often hung out with the Group.

That evening, we had an IV meeting in the gazebo by Jubilee, probably an executive board meeting, which we had at 7pm each Tuesday. It was a warm evening, lit by a moon which would be full the next night, a beautiful background to our meeting. Charles leaned up against the inside wall of the gazebo and looked through the openings at the moon, saying how pretty it was.

Charles walked me back to my room and my roommies soon discovered why he'd asked me on a walk. However, even though I'd dreamed of this, and even though I'd been attracted to him ever since I met him, it started to fade as soon as he asked me out. I didn't know why. But then, I'd felt that way soon after I started dating Peter and Phil. It went away both times. Maybe this would go away, as well.

I may have mentioned that through my paternal grandmother, my line goes back to King Duncan, immortalized in the play Macbeth. Charles said he was descended from an Italian noble--a duke, I think. I believe he also said he was a reincarnation of some noble or royal. (Yeah, right, but anyway.)

Charles and I started sitting next to each other at meals (he usually sat with my friends, and had become a part of the Group). He came over to my apartment in the evening and hung out. We always watched Alternative Nation at eleven and Mystery Science Theater:3000 at midnight, which in those days was played in hour installments.

We got along very well, having several things in common, such as a love of alternative music. We talked a lot and enjoyed each other's company. We were both Republican, though his views were more conservative than mine, which did make me nervous at times (he could be loud with people). (I eventually became a moderate Independent.) He was 24, which seemed old to me. While we talked one night I discovered he was a senior when I was a freshman in high school. "You're one of those old seniors!" I said, and laughed. He made a sound of fake annoyance.

Sharon and I began straightening up the microfiche drawers at the library, making room for new microfiches, putting them in order, etc. It may have seemed tedious at first, but with both of us doing it, it became a chance to talk on and on about guys and life and things like that. Many of the microfiched magazines were short-lived, and Sharon started calling them "failures." "It's another failure," she would say as she put one into the drawer.

I think I listened to alternative music as early as elementary school, about 1983. I remember listening to a little-known station that soon got replaced by Sunny 101 (shudder). It was great. They played songs U93 didn't play, such as Peter Schilling's "Major Tom." Then there was the stuff played on the Notre Dame University station late at night, which I discovered back in my junior year of high school and listened to all through college. And I also liked the alternative tapes that the weird, redheaded, leather-jacketed skinhead brought in to Drawing class my senior year of high school. He played Misfits and Faith No More. Everyone else at our table ripped on them, and said, "These Misfits don't know how to play their instruments!" But when one of the guys asked me if I liked it, I said I did.

Alternative, suddenly popular, became too popular for its own good--which eventually ruined it. It became a cliché, a joke, and lost a great deal of its popularity, just as heavy metal had done in the late 80s and early 90s. It was replaced by electronica, techno, even swing for a short time. By 1998, listeners lamented that all the bands sounded alike now--and, for an example, named several bands which all sounded like Matchbox-20.

The night of the annual Shantytown, Charles and I went to see Only You, a cute movie about a young girl who grows up believing her future husband's name has been revealed to her on a ouija board. Charles and I loved the Italian scenery, Charles especially because of his descent. I wondered if Charles and I were meant to be together, because at the time we seemed more suited than Phil and I, and he was kinder. We had a wonderful time, both at the movie and at Kentucky Fried Chicken, where we went afterwards and talked about many things. He told me about his time in the Air Force, which I thought was cool. He didn't want to join a frat because he'd already been through boot camp. (Unfortunately, he changed his mind for some reason in the spring semester, and joined--can you guess which frat?--the Zetas.)

We got back to Roanoke and went over to the Shantytown, which, as usual, was on the large lawn between Old Main and Krueger. Almost everyone in the IV group was there, since they were all sleeping either in the IV shanty or the Phi-Delt shanty. Clarissa slept in the RC-Cab shanty. I think Pearl, back home from the hospital and on pain medication, was in the Phi-Delt shanty. Mike, of course, was sleeping in the IV shanty. One other person, a woman, slept in the IV shanty. Of course Mike and this person would never do anything naughty, but it looked bad enough to joke about. The shanties, as usual, were all cool, some cooler than others. Astrid decorated the IV shanty with various Christian designs, crosses, fishes, trees and verses. She was very proud of it. The rest of us may also have helped. Charles and I joined our friends in roasting marshmallows by the bonfire on pointed sticks. Carrie or Elaine said one of us had a crush on a guy, but wouldn't tell me who. I feared, of course, that it was Phil. I don't remember who had the crush or if I ever found out who it was on, but I doubt it was Phil; she was probably just shy. As a group, we entertained someone's young son with ghost stories.

When we went to school events, Charles might put his arm around me and I didn't mind, but I feared other guys would see this as a sign that I was "off-limits." I wasn't; we were both allowed to date anybody else we wanted. That's what we meant by not being serious, by taking it slowly, by being, as Charles told Pearl, "very casual." And I wanted to date at least two other guys at the time, including the Guy.

"Imagine that an individual feels, perhaps beneath the level of conscious awareness, that he or she significantly lacks worth, is not lovable, is not a person who can inspire devotion for any sustained length of time. Simultaneously, this individual desires love, pursues love, hopes and dreams to find love. Let us suppose this person is a man. He finds a woman he cares for, she seems to care for him, they are happy, excited, and stimulated in each other's presence--and for a time it seems that his dream is to be fulfilled. But deep in his psyche a time bomb is ticking away--the belief that he is inherently unlovable.

"This time bomb provokes him to destroy his relationship. He may do this in any number of ways. He may endlessly demand reassurance. He may become excessively possessive and jealous. He may behave cruelly to 'test' the depth of her devotion to him." Phil once told me this was why things had gotten so bad. It's in my diary. "He may make self-deprecating comments and wait for her to correct him." Phil did this all the time. "He may tell her he does not deserve her and tell her again and again and again." Yep. "He may tell her that no woman can be trusted and that all women are fickle." He refused to let me meet his "vampire friend Ivan," with the fear that I'd fall for Ian, and he didn't believe me when I said I would never leave him even if I found a "soul mate." "He may find endless excuses to criticize her, to reject her before she can reject him. He may attempt to control and manipulate her by making her feel guilty, thereby hoping to bind her to him. He may become silent, withdrawn, preoccupied, throwing up barriers she cannot penetrate." This whole paragraph sounds like Phil over the course of our relationship.

"Suppose that, despite his best efforts, he cannot drive her away. Perhaps she believes in him, sees his potential." That was me. "Or perhaps she has a masochistic streak that requires that she be involved with such a man. She clings to him; she keeps reassuring him. Her devotion grows stronger, no matter what he does. She simply does not understand the nature of the universe as he perceives it. She does not grasp that no one can love him. In continuing to love him, she presents him with a problem: She confounds his view of reality. He needs a solution. He needs a way out.

"He finds it. He decides that he has fallen out of love with her. Or he tells himself that she bores him. Or he tells himself that he is now in love with someone else. Or he tells himself that love does not interest him. The particular choice does not matter; the net effect is the same: in the end, he is alone again--the way he always 'knew' he would be.

"It is not essential, of course, that his relationship end so conclusively. A literal separation may not be necessary. He may be willing to allow a relationship to continue, providing both he and his partner are unhappy. This is a compromise he can live with. It is as good as being alone and abandoned--almost" (p. 128-129).

"Would you please tell me why something hasn't been done to solve this unfortunate transportation problem on campus? It is a shame when a student cannot move from campus without becoming a parasite on some person owning a car. Many college students are working at the present time to support themselves in school and thus do not find that they have the money to pay for the up-keep of an automobile. Does this mean that they have to continually be shut within the walls of this campus? An individual gets sick of asking a friend or acquaintance for a ride into a neighboring town or community, and so does the driver of the car get sick of hauling five or six passengers every time he leaves the campus!

"This transportation problem also makes it hard for dating (a natural pastime at all colleges). The fellows who do not own cars have no means with which to take out their girls. On Friday and Saturday nights, when it is most likely for them to have their dates, the book store isn't open to the students. Where are they going to go? Maybe a few are lucky enough to be able to double date with a friend who has a car, but maybe they are not that fortunate. The dorms are closed to the students of the opposite sex after certain hours in the evening and therefore only one solution comes to the couple: sitting in someone else's parked car! It is only due to the many inconveniences around campus which force the students to take this undesired course. Can you blame them?

By our day, the campus did have shuttle vans to S-- on certain days and at certain times (I think on Sunday afternoons), though it probably hadn't started up for the year yet when I needed Phil to take me to get milk and orange juice. I usually got haircuts and stocked up while at home on breaks so I wouldn't run out of toiletries at school, except for ones available in the Campus Shop. Senior year, Mike started a "shuttle service" of his own, taking a bunch of us in the Group to S-- on Friday nights to go grocery shopping. Now that we had our own kitchen, we liked to keep food in it.

As the Mirror said, some of the dorms had now put computers in the lounges for people who couldn't get to the computer lab. The following year, they'd even get Internet access. Every other college in the country seemed to already have Internet access, so it's funny to see how times have changed, reading on the Roanoke website that now they're "one of the 'most wired colleges' in the nation." Wow, they even have access ports in the dorm rooms now! In 1994, the Internet was only just starting to get popular, having been a little-known service for academics and government researchers before then. Beyond users of Compuserve, Prodigy and AOL, few people had heard about it until the mid-90s. (A source.)

Wednesday, October 26. Sharon and I went to third-floor Jubilee, and sat outside an office waiting for our turn or maybe for Pearl. To my consternation, Phil showed up there as well. (Why did this sort of thing keep happening?) He said hello. Sharon said nothing, and I just looked away. He said, "Okay." He hung around for a few minutes, and tried to say one or two things to me or Sharon, but I just kept quiet. Sharon went in one of the offices and Phil went through the door to the stairs, saying to me in a surprisingly non-sarcastic voice, "Good-bye. Nice talking to you."

Thursday, October 27. My friends and I went on the Halloween tour through the woods that night. There was a huge line by the Pavilion, but we finally got through it. The Hall Council advertised that the tour would be scary and we'd learn all the legends of the haunted Roanoke woods. Instead, it was funny at times, and had rusted cars and other debris here and there, but I don't think the stories we heard were true. It wasn't scary. It was a walk at night through the woods with a flashlight or two.

We saw Persephone in the line while we waited, and she grinned to see us. She was friendly with me and I was friendly back, especially since last I knew she and Phil were broken up, but I still felt weird around her because of Phil. It's possible that, by then, they'd gotten back together and then broken up again.

Either before or after reading a CCM article about Brent Bourgeois, who'd grown up with Charlie Peacock, Pearl got his new debut CD, Come Join the Living World. (Websites say the CD came out in January of 1995, but I could swear she had the CD before then, when I was still in deep depression.) She also got one by a group called Pray For Rain. I thought it was new, but it was copyrighted 1992. I soon had three favorite songs from these CD's: "Blessed be the Name� by Brent Bourgeois, and "My Time" and "Stay" by Pray For Rain. Two were sad and fit my present situation without being unbearable, unlike many secular songs based on sad situations. One was based on Job, and one was about a marriage in trouble. "My Time" was about devotional time. That one took me away from my situation. They were also musically superior songs, with original, innovative tunes that I loved (love) to listen to over and over again.

Sharon said, the first time she heard the Bourgeois CD, "That sounds like something I'd listen to over and over." It had a calming effect on me, as did plenty of Christian music. I'd been playing my Christian CD's more than anything else, especially Shape of Grace by Out of the Grey. Unlike romantic-love-soaked pop music, they took me away from my situation and reminded me of God's love for me, that He doesn't leave me alone, ever.

Trina didn't like to hear that Charles was dating me now. One day he saw her through the Campus Center window (she was sitting in the lounge), and waved. He left the window and re-joined me on the sidewalk, then said, "I really shouldn't have done that. You're not supposed to rub it in your ex's face when you start dating again."

That made sense to me, especially now that Phil kept rubbing it in my face that he had a new girlfriend. For example, even though none of us liked him except Persephone, he would sometimes sit with us at meals. On November first, he even flirted with her while sitting right across from me. I don't think Charles did things like that to Trina. I don't think she sat at our table when he was around. After a short while, she seemed to get over him and start looking around again.

Those machines! We only had one washer and one dryer for the whole building. We didn't have a lot of people using it, so this would be okay, except that our brand-new machines kept breaking down, and other halls were locked to non-residents. The suites' laundry room, last I knew, wasn't locked, but that was all the way over on the other side of the campus. The Phi-Delts heard a rumor that their sorority suite key cards would also open up all the other hall doors, but I didn't have such a key card. When we first got there, the washing machine would fill up with water, not drain properly, then the water would get all over the floor and soak your clothes, so water would stream out of them when you took them out of the machine. I learned this the hard way, thinking it had been fixed. Then they finally fixed that, but I think the dryer broke, or the washing machine again. So I had to go over to Muehlmeier, but the only way to do that was to call up Persephone and ask her to open the back door for me. It was a short walk, just to Muehlmeier in decent weather, down the hallway to the other end of the building, then downstairs to the laundry room in the basement. But carrying a load of laundry made it harder to handle, and added to that was having to ask Persephone to help me. By this time it must have been late in October. We were friends, but for me it was a wary friendship,

since she was seeing my ex-husband only a few weeks after our final separation. I just didn't understand how she could do this if she wanted to be my friend. When I talked to her, it was hard to keep unwelcome images out of my head--her dating Phil, kissing him, talking with him, laughing, dancing, maybe even worse. I didn't know yet that she refused to go past kissing him.

Sometime during the month of October, Pearl, Sharon, Tara, probably Astrid, Mike, and I went to a Halloween party at Tanya's house. This Tanya was a Christian, sweet, outgoing, and--as Sharon put it--one of the cool people. She occasionally came to InterVarsity. I've mentioned her before, along with her boyfriend Matt; they had been in Sophomore Honors with us.

The party mainly took up three rooms in the big farmhouse, with three different things going on, whatever you wished. You could watch movies or play games, whichever room suited your fancy. It was a great set-up, very well planned. There were lots of people, but it didn't seem crowded. There was food, too, and a scavenger hunt. (No alcohol.) Tanya's house was in the country outside of K--, and it was a beautiful--though cold--starry night. Tara, Sharon and I grouped together with Pearl, and took turns pushing her wheelchair. Pearl usually used a scooter, but since her surgery, she needed a wheelchair. We went around on the family farm and to another farmhouse, looking for clues. At the other farmhouse, an elderly couple waited for us in Halloween masks in their indoor porch. They gave us candy and another clue. We had to find one clue around the back, at a door at the back of the house leading to a closet or shed downstairs. We had some trouble finding what we were looking for there.

Later on, I ended up in a room in which some people (some I knew, some I didn't) sat in a circle and played a game. I don't remember what it was, exactly, but I think it was like Taboo. I sat next to a cute guy in the crowded room. He paid some small attention to me, which I liked, and I may have made one or two funny remarks to him. I wanted to stick around longer, but the game was about over. He was just what I liked--tall, long nose, skinny. He was kind of a blond Phil. With me, both blonds and brunets could be cute, though I seemed drawn to brunets most of all. I saw this guy later on at various places around the school, such as the library. I had a tiny crush on him because he was cute, but it never went anywhere because I didn't really know him.

I decided to be nice to Rick again. I had figured, junior year, that it would pour coals of fire over his head to be so nice after he'd stood me up. I wondered if he remembered me, though. One of my friends thought he must have; how could he have forgotten? In any case, by being nice I wouldn't make a scene, and if he asked me out again, I would calmly say no.

At the party, he played Trivial Pursuit in the dining room with Tanya and Matt and a few others for some time, while I was with my friends in the living room. At one point, we in the living room played Taboo. Later on, several of us were in the kitchen, and I stood next to Rick and others by a counter. I sometimes felt or saw his eyes on me during the evening. But I said nothing to him and acted like nothing had ever happened.

On October 30, some of us went to a party thrown by Astrid. We first went to Astrid's UCC church, a one-room affair except for the little foyer (though it may have had classrooms downstairs). This church looked like a miniature cathedral. Then we went to Astrid's house. I believe it was near West Bend, close to Kettle Moraine State Park, and in Washington County, a nearby county but a long drive from Roanoke. Outside was a dog and an A-framed playhouse, which was neat. Lunch was good, and I even tried a few different cheeses from the spread. One had dill pickle in it.

Later on, after eating lunch and watching ZTV, a Christian music video station, on the satellite TV (and Pearl saying, if she had ZTV, she'd watch it all the time), it was time to leave. This may have been the time Pearl and I ended up in the Beechwood school. We sat in the pre-school or daycare room and smiled as Astrid and her mother entertained the kids.

On the way back to Roanoke, I composed a poem in my head. I later wrote it and additional verses in my diary. It gets harsh at times, but I put it here because it shows the often losing struggle with anger I had in my heart, and because people might identify with it. It also shows just how dark this time was for me:

In October, the American Lit class read Moby Dick. Catherine had hated it when she took the class. But Dr. Nelson let us skip the "whale lore" chapters so we read the actual story. The sexual innuendoes were surprising: Ishmael and Queequeg in bed at the beginning, Queequeg putting his arm around Ishmael, everyone squeezing out the sperm (oil) and having a wonderful time....I read that the author was gay, so it's possible he actually meant it that way.

I tried to get on with life and not spend too much time dwelling on the divorce. Some say it's bad to push your emotions down, that they come up later and don't get better, but this was the only way I could deal with the intense pain. I did spend at least some time trying to deal with my emotions, such as in my diary. I tried not to talk about Phil too much. But when I look back over how dark this time still was and how hard it was to control my hatred for Phil, I wonder if it would have been better if I'd let my grief come out freely for a time.

What made things even worse was that Phil wouldn't leave me alone. He'd try to talk to me, sit with me and my friends at meals even though only Persephone wanted him there, get all lovey with Persephone (holding hands, etc.) while I was sitting right there. At the beginning of the year, I gave him my schedule; I wonder if he kept it and sometimes contrived to show up where I was. We showed up in the same place an awful lot, not just between classes but in other parts of the school. Once, he held the door open for me in the Campus Shop. Sometimes I wonder if he was stalking me. I didn't let myself harm him or his car, didn't threaten him or become a stalker or anything like that, since I knew it was wrong, but the struggle was so intense it frightened me. According to Wikipedia, being stalked can cause intense, even violent anger--just as being abused can do. I've never felt this way before or since about anyone, thank God, though I came close when someone harassed my husband and a group he belonged to, back in 1999. (This person repeatedly posted derogatory comments about the group and particular members on a website, and has no qualms about using viruses to "punish" companies or corporations he feels has wronged him or someone he knows. I suspect he even sent us an e-mail bomb, or a large amount of e-mails, all saying "karma." This is stalking behavior.)

Around this time, I started to distrust the stories The 700 Club would run each Halloween on the evils of rock music and heavy metal. I once thought they found the truly bad lyrics and exposed only them, but I now discovered these lyrics were sometimes subject to interpretation. They showed part of the lyrics to the refrain of one of my favorite songs, but took them out of context. I noticed that some of my favorite bands were listed as "bad" when I didn't think they were.

Once during early fall, while Phil was gone and I was still hurting, I tried to feel better by doing good for humanity: I believe it was Circle K, James' group, which put on a Hunger Banquet. They had a spinner set up, and you'd spin it to see if you'd get a first, second, or third-world meal for dinner that night. (I forget if any money went to charity or if it was just a hunger awareness thing.) First-world got a regular cafeteria meal. Second-world got rice and some other things. Third-world, which I believe I got, got only rice and water, and you had to eat it while sitting on the floor by one of walls. I was disappointed to get this one, but it was a good experience.

On Halloween, I went to dinner with my roommates, preparing for another evening of praying for the buildings. To my dismay, Phil sat with Persephone at our table, right across from me. We didn't want him there. And Persephone seemed insensitive because she let him be there. He started joking around, she said something, and he said to this, "She's so demanding lately!" It seemed suggestive.

Later on, as my friends and I got up and began leaving, I passed by the table and saw Phil and Persephone sitting across from each other. They held hands and read from Measure for Measure playbooks, rehearsing Phil's lines. I believe the handholding was part of the script, but if they'd been at all sensitive, they would have done some other scene. Instead, Phil seemed to be doing this just to make me miserable, since he didn't even bother to wait until I'd left the cafeteria. Didn't Persephone think about how her own actions helped him to hurt me? I felt like taking my key chain and smacking him with it, though I didn't let myself do it. Even worse, I was supposed to be feeling all spiritual because it was time to pray for all the buildings. Finally the IV group left, and I didn't have to see him anymore.

Near the end, we went outside the Pub, which was dead, and sat on the benches to pray for the Campus Center. As we did our "popcorn prayers," basically anybody praying anything whenever, two girls--just a few yards from each other--yelled greetings to each other outside the Pub door and went inside.