Part 2: Flying and a "Talk"

In the summer of 1995, our friendship was solid. We talked on the phone several times a week. He was working at a photo shop near his mom's veterinary clinic and I was a "girl Friday" (archaic, I know) for a steel and pipe company owner in town. Eventually we decided we should visit in person. So a plan was devised.

His dad is a pilot for a private charter company in Burbank, but he lives in Fallbrook. He commutes in a Sesna. (Cool, I know. Imagine flying over all of the traffic.) Now, mind you, I have never met this man in my life. (I had met his mom and step dad on a previous trip.) Therefore, the following plan is absurd really. And, it wasn't really one my parents totally enjoyed, but it saved me driving through LA in Friday afternoon traffic.

The plan was that I would leave work and drive to Burbank (only about an hour and a half or so from home) and meet his dad to fly to San Diego for the weekend and then fly back with him Monday morning. So, I walked in, asked to see his dad, we met, and then he wrapped a few things up at work and we "boarded" the plane. I really cannot remember if I was more nervous about meeting his dad or flying in a small plane for the first time. Honestly, I don't remember much except that he tipped the plane at one point to show me an LA landmark (don't remember which one) and that it was funny to have our first conversation through the mic system on the headphones flying above the city. That trip was the first of a couple that summer. Each time was easier made for an adventure, for sure. I can guarantee that his trip to Bakersfield was not nearly as exciting. (He had already met my parents a couple times and stayed at my house with a group of friends earlier in the year. Plus, he provided his own solitary transportation.)

It was lots of fun to meet him at the San Luis Obispo train station come fall. I had already arrived for a leadership meeting and picked him up before our pre-fall activities for PCF (Poly Christian Fellowship) and school starting. I know what I was wearing: jean overalls, a white tank top, and a colorful, plaidish-checkerish button down shirt over the top. (It was the 90s, give me a break.) Clearly this should be a sign that it was significant, but we were friends...good friends.

That fall I lived in Sierra Madre Tower 1. It was a great place; tons of friendships formed quickly and we hung out with girls on our floor more than ever before. I was a junior, so was my roommate- living amongst the freshman from all over the state. Let's just say that they were intrigued by my friendship with him. They could not understand why we weren't a couple or kissing (or more). We had long talks about why you date (I said marriage, they said a myriad of other things) and how someone should treat a significant other. I learned so much from them about how differently people view things. I told him all about the conversations and he listened to all of the opinions I had.

Then, one night, on a couch in the lounge (I am certain at some crazy hour) we had "a talk", not "The Talk", but one that had significance. It makes me totally laugh even as I type this. I said something like: So, we're on this road, (life, I think?) and it goes on for a long time and along the way there are exits (places to get off the road and actually pursue a destination...relationship, maybe) I am perfectly fine on the road, but I'm also really okay with taking an exit. So, just know that I'm not going to exit unless you want to and flag me down and tell me to get off. (I know this analogy is very strange, but you get the idea...I hope. I was sure that I could be his girlfriend at any time, but I was totally fine just being friends.) He got the picture. The ball was in his court. I was fine with the way things were. I was determined not to define everything just because I needed to have a name or an answer for anyone who asked me about us. It was my cryptic way of telling him I would follow his lead, but the idea of having to talk about things like boundaries and expectations was just not something I was going to bring up by talking about our friendship in real terms.

So fall quarter went on and things were the same. No rush. I had just told my friend and mentor, Kelly, that I was content with the way things were...not complicated, not official, not unhealthy, not physical (even though I knew we both felt the attraction). I don't think I had ever felt so secure and happy and peaceful. I knew God was at work and I was willing to follow Him as I pursued him. (Because let's be honest, I was pursuing him more strongly than any other person.)

And then came finals week...

Okay. This is getting long. I promise I won't be too long. I am just realizing that with every word I write I want to preserve these moments. So, I hope it isn't a bore. I promise I will post something else tomorrow!