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So, in the summer of 1985, here I was... a brand-new Lutheran having non-marital sex. Whoops. Here I was... accepted as part of Debbie's family at every gathering. Here I was... in the grateful eyes of my housemates every time she brought desserts for them. Let me tell you, boys and girls, and let me say it plainly enough so you'll understand for future reference: Guilt is not a reason to propose marriage to anyone. You're sitting there, saying... ...but, propose I did, despite the facts that I wasn't terribly attracted to her and that she wasn't the girl of my dreams. I did have a momentary lapse of reason over a few weeks that spring, shortly after Susan died. Not wanting to know the regrets of what-if's, I answered a knock on my door one Friday night. It was Joy. Debbie had left KFC to work nights at a hotel by that time, and Joy knew it. We watched a movie together on tv, leading to kisses and a walk down the hall to my bedroom. Her body was magnificent and she was my intellectual equal. After sex, she got dressed and walked six blocks home. I thought it was a one-time thing, but on Friday a couple weeks later she knocked on my door again. At the end of a memorable night, she let me know she was feeling guilty because in being with me she was cheating on her guy (who was cheating on his wife to be with her). Weird. The next fall when I went back to college, Joy and I had a class together... we flirted every day. She had broken things off with her squeeze and slid a note to me during class saying she wanted to go to bed with me. This time around though, I was engaged to Debbie and didn't take things any further. My loss. |