Chapter 41: Soulmate

January 15, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"No way!" Dale protested.

"I'm serious, Dale. Ten Polaroids. She sent them to my parents' house, and my mom brought the envelope to me on Thursday."

"I don't believe it. That's not her. It's not!"

"They came from Purdue," I said. "They were postmarked 'West Lafayette, Indiana' on Saturday."

"Shit. I called her on Saturday morning. I pushed her to admit you guys had been together. I'm sorry, Mike."

"It's not your fault, Dale."

"But I think she did that in response to me calling her!"

"Who knows why she did it?! My counselor says that if you and I are right, and she's not thinking clearly, we can't assign motives or whatever to anything she's done."

"You seem to be handling it well."

"You didn't see me on Thursday. A friend found me sitting on a bench at the edge of campus without a coat or hat in a heavy snowstorm. I was a complete zombie. Fortunately, my friends dragged me inside and called Doctor Hart, who's a combination guidance counselor and psychological counselor for me. He's the guy I told you I've been talking to."

"But you're OK now?"

"I'm not suicidal or clinically depressed, but I'm pretty far from 'OK'. She hurt me pretty badly, Dale."

"You haven't exactly been a monk, Mike."

"I didn't mean it that way. I know what I just said about assigning motives, but what was her purpose in sending those to me at this point?"

"Inflicting emotional pain," he said. "Well, I have a cure. Come up to Madison, we'll find you a couple of Freshmen who are in their wild stage because they're away from home!"

"Exactly the thing Doctor Hart told me not to do."

"Dude, if someone is telling you not to get laid, and it's not your priest, they're giving you bum advice! I think your priest gives you bum advice in that regard, too, but it's his job!"

"There is, believe it or not, such a thing as too much sex."

"Now I'm SURE you're mentally ill!" Dale laughed. "You're not even twenty yet! It's simply impossible to have too much sex! OK, maybe if it interferes with going to class and doing your homework, but otherwise?"

"I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one," I chuckled. "I'm NOT living like a monk, but I actually agree with Doctor Hart that I could create more problems by running amok."

"Suit yourself. But come visit. See what college is supposed to be like!"

"That's kind of tough, given I have classes until 5:00pm on Fridays and at 10:00am on Mondays. The drive alone is like ten hours each way!"

"Eight if you don't make more than one stop for gas and drive through McDonald's or Wendy's for a meal."

"Even so, that's a heck of a lot of driving just to get drunk and get laid!"

Dale laughed, "I suppose."

"Did she say anything else?" I asked.

"Not really. She was pissed I pushed her on the issue, and after she admitted it, she basically told me never to call her again. I guess we're in the same boat."

"Crap," I sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Mike. It was that damned old guy who had a heart attack and literally wrecked things. What are you doing for Spring Break?"

"Going home. Why?"

"Come to Florida with us. Bring someone, or I can bring someone for you. Just give me the specs!"

I laughed, "A mail-order bride?"

"You don't have to marry her; just have a honeymoon for a week!"

"Let me think about it."

"We have a condo in Daytona Beach we're renting. There are eight of us, but we can fit ten. That would make it about $125 each, plus gas, food, and booze."

"When do you need to know?"

"If you're bringing someone? The day before. If you need me to bring you a hot little number who's a sure thing, a couple of weeks so she can plan."

"Some girl in Madison is going to agree to have sex with me before she even sees me?"

Dale laughed, "I'll show her your picture! And trust me, I'll make sure she's at least an '8'!"

"You're a nut, Dale Melrose!"

"Nah, man, I'm just doing college the right way! Let's talk more often, OK?"

"Sounds good."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up, then went to find the gang. Everyone was dressing for what was going to be an all-floor snowball fight, so I went back and dressed warmly, put on my boots, and then joined everyone to head outside. We had an absolute blast in what turned out to be a free-for-all, with everyone trying to hit everyone. After about an hour, everyone was exhausted, and we went back inside for hot showers and dry clothes.

After lunch, Robby, Lee, Angie, and I went to karate practice and then hung out with the rest of the gang. We had dinner at a diner close to campus, and then Angie and I went to Vespers. When we arrived back at the dorm, we hung out with Robby, Lee, Sophia, Sandy, and Clarissa until it was time to say our prayers.

After prayers, I walked Angie to her room, where she hugged me and, for the third straight night, gave me a soft kiss. I simply let her kiss me and didn't try to return the kiss. I was sorely tempted to kiss her back, but I didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way. I headed back to my room and found Clarissa waiting for me.

"How long is this going to go on?" I asked.

She smiled, "Monday, I think. That's when Sandy's period will be done!"

I laughed, "I don't keep a calendar. No wonder she hasn't complained! But she won't fool around then, so why?"

"Too much information!" Clarissa laughed. "But even I know there are things a guy and girl can do together besides THAT!"

"True," I chuckled.

About ten minutes later, we were cuddled in bed, with my arm carefully around Clarissa's waist. She snuggled back against me and put her hand on mine. A few seconds later, she gently moved it to cup her small breast.

"It's going to end up there anyway," she whispered. "Just as it did last night."

"You don't have to do that," I protested.

"I'll just pretend you're a girl!" she laughed softly.

"Goofball!" I chuckled.

January 16, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Why?" I asked early on Sunday morning.

"I realized it was comforting," Clarissa said. "Something just felt right. It's weird because it's not sexual. I realized that yesterday morning when we woke up in the same position as we had on Friday morning. It felt loving and caring, not stimulating. And I know you weren't doing it because you wanted to have sex with me."

I chuckled, "I thought we agreed I did."

"Yes, fine, I have the correct secondary sex characteristics to make you physically attracted to me, and we know we like each other a lot, but you also know I'm a lesbian. But damn, Mike, you cuddle really, really well!"

"Sorry!"

"No, you're not! Not about being a guy! You LIKE being a guy!"

"I do! Can I ask you something? Not about us."

"Sure. I'm your best friend, right?"

"Yes."

"So ask."

"On Thursday night, Angie started kissing me on the lips, you know, just a soft kiss."

"She cares about you, Mike. She was worried."

"You care about me, and you've never done more than kiss my cheek."

"Right, because your hand on my boob wasn't totally intimate!"

I chuckled, "Technically, it was on your sweatshirt!"

"No!" Clarissa laughed. "Do not get ANY ideas!"

"Funny, YOU just had the idea! But is that really all it is? Angie caring for me?"

"I'm not exactly the expert on romantic relationships or boy-girl stuff. And I've never actually kissed anyone, romantically or otherwise, so I'm not sure I'm the best person to answer. I guess I'd say you would need to know her intent."

"I'm not sure asking her is the best course of action," I countered.

"But what's your alternative? I suppose you could kiss her back and see what happens."

"I thought of that, obviously, but I'm just concerned about how she'll react. And what it might mean. You know how confused and uptight she is about that stuff."

"Just as I am?" Clarissa asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes, but no. You have different issues. You aren't afraid of or opposed to having sex. Well, with a girl, anyway. And you aren't too uptight about body contact, either. I mean, non-sexual, obviously. Angie is, well, I don't even know what word to use."

"'Frigid' is what the girls at school used to call me because they didn't think I was interested in sex at all."

"They were wrong about that!" I chuckled.

"Yeah, but being called 'frigid' was better than having a reputation as a 'lezzy'."

"I'm sorry people are so cruel."

"You make up for it," she said with a smile, then moved forward and kissed my nose.

"I think we need to get up," I said. "Angie will be here soon, so we can go to church."

"Want to hear something strange?"

"Sure."

"I'm going to miss sleeping with you."

"You can sleep with me anytime!" I grinned and stuck out my tongue.

"Watch out, or I'll bite that off!"

"It would have to be in your mouth for that to happen!" I teased.

"Ewww! Let's not be gross now!"

I chuckled, "Oh sure, someday you'll put your tongue in another girl's vagina, and that's awesome, but MY tongue in your mouth is gross? Really?"

"Would YOU kiss Robby or Lee that way?"

"Oh, HELL no!" I laughed.

"Exactly!"

"You know," I smirked. "You aren't following Doctor Hart's instructions to the letter."

"How so?"

"I shower alone!"

"Fat chance!" Clarissa laughed. "I'll get Sandy for you!"

"Hang on! Who's being inconsistent now? You shower with girls! You're sexually attracted to girls, not guys!"

"Nice try, genius!" Clarissa laughed. "It's about YOU, not me! And all the silliness aside, we do NOT want to get kicked out of school for that. Or anything else for that matter."

"True."

We got out of bed and exchanged a hug, then Clarissa left, and I went to take a quick shower so I could be ready for church on time.

"Get the pictures, please," I said when Angie came to my room.

"Why?"

"There's a gas grill at the church I can use to burn them. That was Doctor Hart's advice. Make it so, for all intents and purposes, as if they never existed. They're Polaroids, so there aren't any negatives."

"I think that's a good thing, so yes, let me get them. But don't look at them, Mike. Just leave them in the envelope. Promise?"

"Yes."

Later, after the Divine Liturgy ended, I explained what I needed to Deacon Grigory and received permission to go out to the shed and use the gas grill. He reminded me to keep the door open so as not to have problems with fumes or carbon monoxide, and Angie and I followed the shoveled path to the shed. I opened the doors, moved the grill to just inside them, then opened the valves and pressed the igniter.

Once the flames started, I took the envelope from Angie and put it on the grill, then turned the controls to 'MAX' and watched flames lick the envelope. It began smoking, first a few wisps, then more, then it burst into flames and burned furiously. When the envelope, and its contents, were reduced to ashes, I closed the valves for the gas, used a small scoop to remove the ashes and put them into the metal trashcan reserved for that purpose, then closed the grill's lid, and moved it back to its proper storage location.

"You OK?" Angie asked as we walked back to the church building.

"Yes. I think you were right about not looking at those pictures again."

"How long before Doctor Hart lets you act normally again?"

"Define normal!" I grinned.

"OK, act like yourself!"

"It's actually Clarissa who is keeping the leash tight at the moment. Doctor Hart was basically satisfied on Friday that I wasn't going to do anything dumb like sit out in a snowstorm. But he was being careful."

"I would think he has to be."

"True. I really do appreciate you being there for me. Can I ask you something?"

She smiled, "About kissing you?"

"Yes. I mean, if you want to talk about it."

Angie took a deep breath and let it out, "I guess I was trying to show you how much I cared."

"You don't have to do that for me to know you care."

"I, uhm, well, I just felt like I had to. Sorry, I can't explain it any better."

"It's OK. Just remember I'm your friend, and I'm grateful for you being my friend. We do need to get inside so you can go to catechism."

She stopped, hugged me, and then we went inside.

January 17, 1983, McKinley, Ohio

"Just two more minutes," Clarissa sighed when she shut off the alarm when it went off on Monday morning.

"OK," I said, tightening my arm around her a bit as she snuggled close again.

"You can put your hand on my boob," she said quietly.

I moved my hand, not upwards, but downwards, to the hem of her sweatshirt.

"Move that hand one more millimeter under my sweatshirt, and you'll pull back a bloody stump!"

"You offered..." I teased.

"I did NOT! And you know it!"

I moved my hand OUTSIDE her sweatshirt and cupped her breast, pulling her tightly to me. I held her for two minutes as she'd requested, and then we got out of bed.

She turned and looked at me, "Can I ask you a serious question? No goofiness?"

"Sure," I agreed.

"Why do you want to do that, knowing I want to be with girls?"

"It was just teasing, mostly," I replied. "Yes, I'm attracted to you, but I'm not doing it because I think it's going to magically turn you straight or make you want to have sex with me or anything like that. I offered to sleep spooned the other way so your arm was around me if you wanted so that it didn't happen again."

"I know. But I really like your arm around me. It's comforting and makes me feel safe and loved. I LOVE cuddling with you. I guess what I was trying to ask is if it frustrates you."

"And if I say it does, you'll suddenly decide to help me alleviate the frustration? I don't THINK so!"

Clarissa laughed, "No. But I don't want to create more stress or create a problem between us."

"You aren't. I can stop teasing if you want."

"No, I think it's fun. You're safe, Mike. I know in most circumstances, a girl telling a guy that would be an insult, but not in this case. Me telling you I just want to be close friends doesn't make you feel bad."

"No, it doesn't. You'll tell me if you think I'm teasing too much or crossing a line?"

"I don't think you would cross any lines. Would you REALLY have slid your hand inside my sweatshirt?"

"No, of course not. That's not teasing; that's assault."

"Which shows my faith in you is justified."

There was a knock at the door, and before she turned to open it, Clarissa leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"All yours!" Clarissa said to Angie. "I'll collect him at breakfast!"

Angie and I went through our usual morning routine, and after breakfast, Clarissa walked with me to Doctor Hart's office.

"How was your weekend?" he asked.

I grinned, "You tell me. I know Clarissa called you on Saturday evening."

"I asked her to check in with me. She said you were doing OK and didn't show any obvious signs of depression. You don't seem bothered by that."

"They care, Doc; She and Angie. The others, too. But Clarissa and Angie are only doing what they think I need them to do to help me through this."

"A very good attitude. Friends like those two, plus the other members of your posse, are hard to come by. You seven appear to be thick as thieves, and that's probably the single most important thing you have to help keep you stable. Suicide often occurs when an individual thinks nobody cares. You don't think that which alleviated my concern quite a bit."

"I'm beginning to realize how important my new friends are. It's very similar to what I had with Dale and Jocelyn growing up. Well, until it all fell apart."

"Are you and Dale still friends?"

"Yes, but we're not as close as we were because he's at UW-Madison and doesn't come home very often. I won't see him again until Thanksgiving."

"How are you feeling about Jocelyn?"

"Angie and I burned the pictures yesterday."

"Good. I think that was the wisest course of action. People have a habit, when they have things like that in their possession, of fueling their rage or hatred or whatever by looking at them whenever they feel it waning."

"On purpose?"

"Yes. It takes a lot of effort to stay angry with someone. In fact, some would say it takes MORE energy to stay angry than it does to love."

"I guess I could see that."

"Do you know what the opposite of 'love' is?"

"Not what I think it is, given that you asked a question with what ought to be a blindingly obvious answer."

Doctor Hart laughed, "Your mom had a very good effect on you in that you know when the 'obvious' answer is wrong."

"When there was an obvious answer, she always simply said 'So?' or 'And?' because it was obvious. If she asked a question like that one, it was because the 'obvious' answer was dead wrong."

"Allow me to quote Elie Wiesel: 'The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness; it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy; it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death; it's indifference'."

"So the opposite of having a certain feeling for someone is having no feelings for them whatsoever?"

"Yes," Doctor Hart confirmed. "If you didn't care about Jocelyn, you wouldn't be angry with her or whatever it is you're feeling right now. If you didn't care about her, those pictures could never have hurt you."