Lessons From My Mother

March 6

Dear Diary:

I should be reading for my evening class, but I can’t concentrate. I think I fell in love today!

I saw him from across the quad while I was walking to class. He is tall and handsome, with blonde, surfer boy hair and a smile right out of a magazine. I could see his blue eyes all the way from where I was standing. He looked like Prince Charming!

We made eye contact. I smiled at him and he smiled at me and ooooh! It was just like out of a movie. He was with his friends so he didn’t approach me and I didn’t dare approach him. I don’t even know why he would be looking at someone like me. He could probably have any woman he wanted, and I am unremarkable with my flat brown hair and humdrum brown eyes.

Mother always told me I am not the kind of girl men fall for, that I am too plain and too smart and that I will probably be alone forever, just like her. I would love to show her how little she knows.

March 8

Dear Diary:

I saw him again today. I was sitting in the quad reading a book when I felt someone looking at me. When I looked up, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, walking right toward me, as though the only thing in the world he could see at that moment was me.

He sat down next to me and asked me my name, so I told him it was Lilly. He told me his name, too, which is Lucas. How perfect is that? He shares a name with my daddy!

He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles like only a prince would. I swear I felt an electric current from his lips shoot into my hand. I felt it radiate through me like a wildfire. In fact, I am still burning from it. I blushed madly. I can still feel the color raging in my cheeks. I am sure he must have thought I was quite a silly girl.

He asked me if I would go to dinner with him. Of course, I said yes. I don’t know where we’re going, nor do I really care. He’s going to pick me up at my dorm. I need to figure out what I’m going to wear! It must be something special.

I want to call my mother and rub her spiteful nose in it, but I’m not sure the nurses would let her take the call. I don’t know how she’s been lately.

March 10

Dear Diary:

My date with Lucas is tonight! I haven’t been able to focus on much else. I’ve never been on a date before. I was late to class today because I was up late trying to figure out what to wear. My professor said it was very unlike me. But I don’t care! I know it’s going to be just like a fairy tale.

My roommate Jennifer let me borrow some of her clothes because I couldn’t find anything to wear. Luckily, we are pretty much the same size, except she has much larger breasts. She isn’t shy, so I have seen her change a number of times. I have discretely marveled at them in quiet envy. I hadn’t developed like she had. I had always found my own figure to be quite slim and boyish. My mother agreed. It was probably why no boy had ever taken an interest in me before.

I chose a form-fitting mauve dress and these cute little black heels and a black leather jacket. The outfit is a far cry from the jeans and t-shirts and oversized sweaters that dominate the majority of my wardrobe. She even offered to do my makeup and hair for me! No one has ever done that before. I’ve never worn makeup, so I wouldn’t know the first thing about it. My mother always says that makeup attracts the wrong kind of men.

I am so lucky to have a friend like Jennifer.

March 10

Dear Diary:

Our date was so wonderful I just couldn’t wait to write about it!

He picked me up at 7:30. We walked to a café a few blocks from campus. He opened the door for me, pulled out my chair, offered me his jacket when I said I was cold. That was a trick my mother taught me. He was the perfect gentleman.

We have so much in common. He grew up in a small town in Iowa, just like me. We both ordered grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, except he had Coke and I ordered mine with milk. We like to watch movies and we love Frank Sinatra. His dad is gone, just like mine is. He told me that he has a great relationship with his mother. I told him that my mother is dead. He felt so sorry for me. He looked into my eyes, reached for my hand from across the table and then squeezed it. I thought my heart my burst right there in my chest.

After dinner he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place to watch a movie, and of course I agreed. He held my hand on the way there, our fingers laced together. I felt like I was meant to hold his hand. I was shaking like a leaf and I’m sure he could feel the tremors. It was so romantic I thought I might just float right out of my body and up into the heavens.

He lives in a fraternity off-campus, so we walked there together. When we entered the house, the living room was full of some of his fraternity brothers, and he introduced me to them with a big grin on his face. They were all smiling too. I felt so special. My mother was so wrong about boys. Lucas was different.

His bedroom was relatively small and dark and sort of messy. It also had a strange smell to it that I couldn’t place and it was a little too warm. But I didn’t care. I was just so happy to be there with him. Of all the girls in the world, he had picked me.

He told me that one of his favorite movies is American Pie. I’ve never seen it so he put it on for us to watch. I couldn’t really concentrate on the plot or the characters so I can’t really say much about it. I was just waiting for him to kiss me.

Some time after the movie started, he turned to me and made it clear that he was going to kiss me. He looked at me as though I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, like we were the only two people in the world. I wanted to melt into a puddle. I have never been kissed before, so I didn’t know what to expect. I was so nervous. I could feel the butterflies surging in waves inside my belly. I was so nervous I thought I might vaporize and seep out through the screen in his bedroom window.

When he put his lips against mine, I stopped breathing. His lips were warm silk. He was gentle and he tasted like Coca Cola. He kissed me the way I was sure all women were meant to be kissed. The movie became white noise in the background. I had been transported to some other place. I no longer noticed the odd smell in his room, nor did I mind the sound of his fraternity brothers partying boorishly downstairs.

His hands on me were sure and tender. I had never been with anyone before. I told him just that. I was worried he would be upset. Instead, his eyes housed a look of awe. He smiled at me, took my hand and led me from the worn little loveseat to his unmade bed. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I wanted to be for him.

He made love to me then. It didn’t last very long, but it was everything I imagined it would be. I was lying under this man whom I was sure loved me, or if he didn’t then he would very soon. It wouldn’t feel like this if love wasn’t involved. My mother had always told me that sex was dirty and that I should wait until marriage, but that hadn’t served her well at all, had it?

I put my hands on his face and stared up into his eyes while we made love. I watched the way his face contorted with pleasure. I reveled in the fact that I had done that for him; I had pleased him. Of all the girls in the world, he had chosen me. We were going to be together forever.

After he had finished, I pulled his face to mine and planted a big kiss on his mouth. I wrapped my arms around him. I told him I loved him. He didn’t say it back. It must have been because he was out of breath.

Afterward, he walked me to my dorm and gave me a kiss outside. He told me he would call me tomorrow, and now here I am writing this. I feel like I am floating. I am so excited and happy I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep. I smell just like him. I don’t think I’ll shower tonight.

March 11

Dear Diary:

It is now 7:00 p.m. and Lucas hasn’t called. I’ve tried to keep myself busy all day by catching up on my homework, but I can’t concentrate. He said he would call me, but he hasn’t. I am starting to wonder if I gave him the right number. I am sure I wrote it down correctly.

I want to talk to Jennifer about this, but she isn’t here. I’ve never been in this position before and I just don’t know what to expect. I guess it is still early.

I tried to call my mother, but I was told she was resting.

March 12

Dear Diary:

I couldn’t sleep last night because Lucas never called.

I tried calling him around noon today. His friend Mark answered the phone. He said that Lucas wasn’t in, but that he’d give him the message. Where could he be on a Sunday afternoon? There are no classes on weekends. I was hoping that he and I would spend more time together. We still had so much to learn about one another.

I asked Jennifer if this was usual for boys. She said it was. She told me that I shouldn’t worry. She said she’s sure he’ll call. I wish I could be as cavalier as she. I see how the boys look at her. She makes being a woman look so easy. She and I are so different. She also said I should keep the outfit that she let me borrow. She said it looked better on me than it ever did on her. I wondered for a moment if she was making fun of me when she said that, but what reason did she have to do so? I’m being paranoid.

March 14

Dear Diary:

I’ve called Lucas a number of times over the past few days, but he hasn’t returned my calls. Once I did hear the phone ring while I was walking down the hall toward my dorm so I ran to get it, but I didn’t make it in time. Maybe that was him. I don’t know what could be keeping him so busy. When I call his fraternity and ask for him, his friends never seem to know where he is.

I called my mother again and this time I was able to speak to her. I told her about Lucas, about what I had done. I wasn’t going to, but I was so excited I couldn’t help it. She got angry and told me that I was going to go to hell, that I had defied God by willingly giving my body to a man who didn’t love me. I tried to explain that we were in love, but she wouldn’t listen. She also said that when I got down there, I would see daddy again.

March 16

Dear Diary:

I haven’t been able to get Lucas on the phone so I waited for him in the quad. He didn’t seem happy to see me. In fact, he seemed annoyed. When I tried to hold his hand or kiss him, he pushed me away.

I’m not sure what I did wrong, or what I did to upset him. When I asked him why he hadn’t called me, he told me that he had no obligation to call me, that he didn’t want to, that we’d only been on one date. He told me that I was ‘coming on too strong.’ I’m not sure what that means. Why would he make love to me the way he did if he didn’t feel the same way I do?

I haven’t been able to stop crying. I am so confused. I feel used and discarded. Had that night meant nothing to him? Maybe he was just having a bad day.

March 17

Dear Diary:

I’d been calling Lucas for two days unable to reach him. When I reached his friend Tom tonight, he told me that Lucas was going to a St. Patrick’s Day party and that I should go.

I don’t really own any nice clothing, so I wore the mauve dress and the leather jacket again. I couldn’t find the black heels Jennifer had given me so I wore sneakers. The walk to the fraternity house was cold in the dress, but I knew it would be worth it to see Lucas.

When I got to the house, it was so loud I couldn’t think straight. There were people everywhere. All I could smell was beer and marijuana. I watched a guy throw up over the railing of the front porch. I had never been to a party before. Now I knew why.

Inside, I searched for Lucas. I asked around for him. I recognized a few of the guys from the party as having been in the living room of the frat house when Lucas brought me over. A couple of them laughed when they saw me. I wasn’t sure why. When I asked where Lucas was, they shrugged and said they didn’t know. They seemed bothered that I was there. I got the feeling they were talking about me behind my back as I walked away.

I wandered upstairs next. The smell of marijuana and beer weighed heavy on me like a fog. I felt ill.

I opened a few doors and found the rooms inside empty save for a few partygoers I didn’t recognize. I reached the end of a long, dark hallway and another door. I opened it and was sure I’d opened the door into a nightmare.

My eyes found Lucas lying on a bed against the far wall, nude from the waist down, his shirt pulled up to his chin. On top of him sat Jennifer, wearing nothing at all except the little black heels she’d previously let me borrow. Lucas’ hands groped Jennifer’s great, big breasts while she rocked her hips and rode him with wild, unabashed abandon. The two of them moaned and groaned like animals sick with pleasure. She bent and kissed him right on the mouth while he was inside her. I felt the air drain from me, felt my lungs and chest go hollow as a ghost. It made the contents of my stomach churn and lurch into my throat.

Then I heard screaming. I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. It got louder and louder. It made my head and face and even my teeth hurt. I realized then that the screaming was coming from me. After that, everything went black.

November 17

Dear Diary:

I haven’t been able to write for a long time because I did something bad. Two bad things, actually, according to the police report.

When I came to, I was covered in blood that wasn’t mine. I know because I could find no injuries on myself. I’ve no idea where the knife came from, nor do I remember writing my last entry.

To this day I don’t remember anything after I saw the two of them together. The police and prosecutors told me that I stabbed the two of them more than thirty times each, that it was difficult to tell where one of them ended and the other began. I found that kind of funny considering my last memory was of the two of them together in the same fashion.

Witnesses claim that they’d seen me wander calmly into the kitchen of the house where the party had taken place and retrieve a massive kitchen knife. My left hand and fingers had ached for weeks afterward, which to me was the only indication of my transgression. I am left-handed.

It is not so bad here. I am bunked with my mother. Prior to my arrival she didn’t get along with anyone well enough to have a lasting roommate. The doctors here thought that being together would be good for us.

After she killed daddy, mother had told me she couldn’t remember what had happened, only that she knew he’d wronged her. He’d been having an affair with a colleague. I had been the one to find her bent over him, knife in hand, his lifeless body sprawled across our kitchen floor like a puppet without strings. She had stabbed him more than thirty times.

I hadn’t understood at the time, but I guess I am more like my mother than I thought.

At least we won’t be alone forever.