Criminitely.

(Where did that word come from?)

So I wrote about Jenny, Mindy and I confronting Tad. Now I get to write about him approaching us.

Thursday night was Open House. Thursday night, before Open House, Jenny informed me that Tad was going to come over for Open House because he, quote, "had something he really needed to talk about... Like, he wanted to explain to us why he is the way he is." Unquote.

I just wanted to say, Oh, dear God. Please don't let this come true.

I really really really really did NOT want to hear anything Tad had to "explain to us" about "why he is the way he is." You guys will understand in a moment why.

That was at about 6:30. I hadn't gotten dinner yet, so I said, "Well, I'll be at dinner! I may not come back. Maybe by some miracle I'll miss him."

Jenny understood, bless her heart.

"Well, he sounded like it was really something he needed to tell us"--even she was a bit weirded out--"so I figure he'll be here, like, right at seven."

"Oh, good," I said. "Maybe I'll just take a long time at dinner."

"Okay. But--um, what should I say to him?"

Hm. Hadn't thought of that. 'Stephanie isn't here because she is avoiding you at all costs'? That probably wouldn't fly too well...

"Um... Just tell him I'm at dinner. I probably won't take that long," I said with a cringe. With that, I left and walked to dinner, head down, deeply entrenched in my thoughts. I dreaded hearing what he "had to say"... But how the heck could I get out of it? Ugh.

It occurred to me that what I should be doing was praying, not worrying. I passed the prayer chapel on the way to dinner.

The prayer chapel...

There was my escape.

I decided then and there to take as long or short as I needed at dinner and hide away in the prayer chapel and pray. Hard.

I just hoped Tad didn't happen to be in there praying for strength to face Jenny and I the same time I happened to be there praying for the strength to face him.

Fortunately for me, though, there was nobody in there. I sat in one of the altars you can hide behind and worried to God. :)

In the course of our discourse (ha), God said to me, "I created Tad just the way he was meant to be." Emotional. Melodramatic. God had created him that way on purpose.

"I created Jenny just the way she was meant to be." Optimistic. Sweet. God made her that way on purpose.

"I created you just the way you were meant to be."

Me?

Oh, but God, why?

"I created Tad to be emotional. I created you to connect on deep emotional levels with people. That's just the way I meant it to be."

God wasn't saying I needed to make such a connection with Tad (perish the thought!), but he was saying it was okay that I was like that. I've been trying really hard since Nate to force away that part of my personality... God was reminding me that that was the way I was supposed to be.

Why, I still can't say. But God knows. I'll learn someday.

I realized I'd have to go face Tad and trust God. It took another good 10 minutes to get me to gather together the courage and get up and walk out of the safe harbor of the quiet prayer chapel. But I had to... I knew, above everything, that I couldn't sit in there in paranoia for hours.

I went to the room. It was about 7:30. Jenny was sitting at her computer. No Tad?

"Tad hasn't stopped by yet," Jenny told me, "which really surprises me, because he sounded like he really needed to talk about it!"

A small flame of hope sprung up in me. Maybe he wouldn't come at all! Maybe he'd gotten over his little feeling of obligation to tell us about himself and was just going to hang out in his dorm all night...

I laid on my bed and did homework for an hour and a half. I really was beginning to believe he wasn't coming... And then a little after 9:00 Tad came.

Here we go, I thought as I sat up slowly.

"I thought you would be here right at seven!" Jenny said.

"So did I," Tad laughed, and I was glad to hear him laugh... Maybe it wouldn't be as serious as I thought...

But he did get serious and as he did dread sank on my own heart. I don't remember how he opened his speech. What I remember is sitting there thinking, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here, I don't want to be here...

And then, the two sentences I remember, burned into my brain.

"I'm very emotional for a guy."

"I have been suicidal and depressive for the last 7 years."

I left the room.

I didn't come back.

To make a long story shorter, I sat in Dooley lobby for a while and wrote and wrote and wrote. (I'd found a pen and some scrap paper in the piano bench.) Tad came down to the lobby eventually but he didn't see me; not even when he walked right past the piano to go back to Culver. It's a grand piano; the top was open and hid me. I went back into the room almost immediately after he left.

I did explain to Jenny that Nate was suicidal and depressive. (And emotional and melodramatic.) So she knew why I went out of the room. I haven't seen Tad yet. I don't want to see him. I don't know what I'm going to do... Avoid him still? Good grief. And how would I explain that to him?

You think life gets cleared up... And then it just gets murkier.

Well. I'm going to be late for a Twix. :) I've written myself out, as Emily Byrd Starr says, and now I'm going to get my mind off of stuff.

If you read this all the way through, you're a real trooper. :)

Love,
Stephanie