A Teenager's Journey (16 page)

Adam and Amy helped me realize that even the most seemingly out-of-reach dreams can come true, if you truly want them to.

13

J
OHN AND
D
ARLENE

John and Darlene, in their early forties, were more loving than I, at the age of twenty-three, could comprehend. They loved life, they loved each other, and they loved their kids. But what shocked me the most was that they loved me: they actually loved
me.
John and Darlene nurtured and taught me as only a mother and father can do.

Darlene was the one that eventually got through that thick layer I created on the surface. She had something that I never did. She had real faith in herself, her husband, her children, and God.

J
OHN AND DARLENE WORKED
hard to keep the kids happy and clothed. I truly felt that having one more—me—wasn’t going to make much difference. John worked long hours and weekends, but he always managed to find time for the kids and for others, too.

Since I never really had one before John, it’s hard for me to define a father figure. He was strong and yet gentle, firm in his beliefs yet flexible in his judgment.

I have only a few select memories of my real father’s face. I spent most of my young life without a father. John’s fatherly love for his family was so foreign to me that I had to work to understand it. He tried hard to treat me like one of the kids. Inside, though, I was scared. He intimidated me. I wanted never to disappoint him, and to earn his respect. I know that oftentimes I fell short.

I loved my real father—he was my father.

But I loved John Nichols—he was my dad.

One of the mistakes I made during that time was not making that perfectly clear to John. Even to this day, I haven’t. Had I not been so angry at the drastic difference between my real father and my dad, perhaps I would have been able to share that. John’s ability to guide and support my emotional and spiritual growth was special to me.

But if there was one person who really saved me, it was Darlene. She taught me about self-respect, respect for my body as well as my mind. Her lessons, either by commission or omission, were always right on target. Her love for her children and her love for life were what I needed to see as a young man. She taught me so much more in the few short years I lived with the Nichols family than I had ever learned from my real mom.

Sometimes I talked to John and Darlene about my goals and what I wanted to do with my life.

I had been working at a Ford truck dealership with Ron. For a while I enjoyed the company and the work. But as always I needed a better-paying job. The Ford Pinto I was driving at the time was falling apart and I just couldn’t keep it running on the salary I had. I took another job, a better-paying one, as a parts delivery boy at another Ford dealership.

As I started to befriend some of the other guys my own age at the dealership, I quickly realized that I had to be strong in my resolution to remain drug- and alcohol-free. Many times after work some of the guys would go out for beers and we would go bowling. The temptations that I was exposing myself to were the worst part of being in that setup. I knew exactly what they were talking about each Monday after a weekend of getting high, drinking, and picking up girls. On the one hand I wanted to join them and smoke myself into the Stone Age again, and on the other I wanted no part of it. I wish I could say that the temptations went away and I overcame the desire, but the only thing I overcame was my sitting on the fence.

Richmond had several churches that were attended by young single adults only. They were designed to help people with the same beliefs and values to share and grow together. Some members went to the services or functions only on rare occasions. I could tell that sometimes they felt comfortable with their peers and other times they didn’t. I understood what they were feeling. As the weeks went by, I made a friend of one of the girls who had lived a lot like I had done. We talked and exchanged our memories of the good and the bad in that reckless lifestyle.

But the struggle to stay clean and drug-free ended up a losing battle for me.

Ron and Chris had been actively after me to go dancing with some girls they knew, and being as tempted as I was to go over the edge, I thought it a good idea and a safe place for me to be. So I agreed.

When I turned into the parking lot that evening, I saw that it was full, so I had to park around the back. Behind the dance hall, just a few yards away, was the house of one of the kids I worked with at the dealership. As I parked the car, he called out to me and invited me to the party that was going on at his house with his brother and a few girls they knew.

I turned and looked back at the hall, and felt that old feeling of confusion I knew so well. The decision I made that night was one of my worst.

I walked across the hall lawn, up the driveway, and into the house, then closed the door, leaving Ron and Chris wondering what had happened to me.

Within a few hours I was drunk and stoned out of my mind. But I wanted to be polite. I wanted no one to know that I thought the drugs at the party were too simple for me, childish. As usual, though, my mouth failed to obey my mind, and I made such a big deal about the choice of drugs.

“These are ridiculous. Don’t you have any real drugs?” I said.

It took all of about two seconds for me to see that I was out of control and making an ass of myself.

When the morning light reached the bedroom I was sleeping in and I realized that the girl next to me was a total stranger, I panicked. I knew where I was and yet I didn’t recall anything.

I gathered my clothes, but couldn’t find my contact lenses. I knew that I couldn’t drive without them, but I had to leave that house as soon as I could and make my way back home.

I spent the whole of the drive back thinking about what I would say to John and Darlene. They would be concerned if they knew that Ron and Chris had seen me pull into the parking lot, then not seen me again.

Darlene opened the back door before I could reach for the handle. The expression on her face changed from worry to disappointment the minute she saw me. I looked hungover, and I was. I looked like I’d slept in my clothes and I stank of smoke and booze.

The one person that I always wanted to make happy and whose confidence in me I was desperate to hang on to, was now seeing just what I was capable of—still—and how easily I could be tempted. It took a long time to live through the disappointment and the embarrassment. I vowed that I would never place myself in that position again. I’d learned that I still wasn’t able to handle temptation.

It was several weeks before Darlene talked to me again like she used to. I felt her disappointment, and I understood it. I was crushed and embarrassed, and so was she. I had to accept that I had limitations, and I had to not only accept them but live with them, too. For the first time I sat down and took an inventory not only of what and who I wanted to be, but of who and what I couldn’t be.

I’ll never forget the disappointment on Darlene’s face that morning. I vowed to always think of it when I needed a reason to turn around and walk the other way.

14

O
N
M
Y
O
WN

The three hardest years of my life—odd though this may seem—were between the ages of twenty-four and twenty-seven. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t a teenager. But I wasn’t yet a man, either. I still didn’t know who or what I was. I was a tardy teenager, lost somewhere in the middle.

I was on my own and responsible for my actions, and for myself. I was truly alone. But it was the beginning of the change.

I
T HAD BEEN NEARLY
three years since I’d moved out of the Nichols family’s home. They had moved to another state, and the few friends that I’d made were off to college. I was left to figure it all out. I hadn’t spoken to Mom or any of my brothers for a couple of years.

It hadn’t been difficult, being on my own. I was working at a state job in Richmond as a weights and measures inspector for the Department of Agriculture. It was a basic nine-to-five job. There was nothing special about what I did. There was nothing special about myself, either. The constant reminder that my friends were off at college was aggravating. There was little chance of me getting into college. Despite all the love and care I’d received from Darlene and John, from the whole family, I didn’t have the self-esteem to even try.

I started to see more of one of the girls I had met at a singles gathering, and it wasn’t long before Jennifer and I were spending most evenings together. Being introduced to her family was difficult. I found that I really didn’t fit in. I had no family nearby, and my real one wasn’t a good topic for conversation. Jen’s parents thought it odd that I never talked about my family. Whenever they planned a family event, they would ask if I wanted to join in.

I learned a lot from Jen; I learned that honesty really is the best policy and that if you are going to build a real relationship there cannot be any secrets. But I couldn’t open up and share what I was before we met. Unfortunately, we didn’t last that long.

We had a normal platonic relationship. Often I would sleep over in a separate room after a long movie or after spending time together. Jen would get up for work, and I would leave as she did, for my job.

One evening after we’d all gone to bed, her father, Buddy, checked on the two of us. I was in the guest room sound asleep, and Jen was in her bedroom. As Buddy opened the door to the room, I sat bolt upright in bed, and as he opened the door farther, I moved away from him. His reaction to this behavior was more than surprise. He was shocked that I could jump from asleep to awake in a split second, simply from the sound of the door opening.

There were other oddities that I know Jen’s parents noticed, but never said anything about. They just kept Jen close and safe. It was almost like they were searching for the real me, just as I was.

One night when Jen and I went to our separate rooms, I was upset. We had been spending more and more time together. I was becoming emotionally involved, and I was afraid. From the moment my head hit the pillow, all I could think about was how to tell Jen and her parents about me and my past. They deserved to know who I really was and what I was going through.

At some point during the night, I had gotten out of bed and found a dark corner of the room to sit in. I was curled up in a fetal position, wearing only my briefs and a blanket, and with my head right in the corner.

Suddenly I heard the sound of creaking hinges, and the door opened. I knew it was Buddy checking on me. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. I felt ashamed as he came over to me. When he knelt down and asked me if I was all right, I didn’t know what to say. How could I explain that I was so afraid of becoming involved with Jennifer that I must have gotten out of bed and crawled in the corner while I was asleep?

It was one of the many times I wanted to just evaporate away and not have to explain myself. It was also one of the most embarrassing moments I had ever experienced.

There was just nothing I could offer Jen. I simply couldn’t open up to her or her mother and father. I still didn’t know what I wanted in life, nor did I have any real expectations of myself. It was pretty clear that I was just floating through life from one day to the next, and Jen wanted much more from her boyfriend than that. Her parents wanted much more from me, too. I wasn’t willing, or able, to get myself together.

I had never been in love. At that point in my life, love had little value for me. I enjoyed the company of a girlfriend, and the experiences I had were all lessons learned, but I wasn’t ready to share with anyone.

When Jen told me she wanted more from a relationship than I was able to provide, a stronger commitment, I took it as the inevitable other shoe dropping. It wasn’t surprising that she wanted out. At the age of twenty-five, I knew I still needed to grow up. But it was more than a question of maturity, much more.

The trouble was I didn’t know what I had to do to really change. Most of my life up to that point, whenever I needed to make a change all I did was change location, friends, or jobs. I never actually sat down and thought about changing
me;
changing what was inside and the way I thought and felt about myself.

It took the loss of a real girlfriend for me to begin to have a good look at myself. After Jen, after being alone for several months—by choice and design—I was able to focus on myself at my own pace.

The people I worked with knew little about me, too. When I thought about it, I could see there was almost no one around who knew anything about me: where I grew up, my family, my education, or any detail that made me different than anyone else. I was no one, in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t matter what state I lived in or what friends I had. If I chose to keep myself distant from those around me, then I was alone. I was alone in the middle of the crowd: lost in a shuffle of day-to-day life, with no direction.

About six months after Jen said good-bye for the last time, my upstairs neighbor and I started to see a bit more of each other. Up till then, I used to sit outside on my front porch and watch the sunset, and she would watch it from hers.

I found it easy to be cordial and polite with no hidden agenda, no trying to impress or find some spark. So the day I discovered my neighbor, Lara, was interested in more than a friendly hello from me, I made the decision to stay out of a relationship until I was ready to truly share in one.

It was easy. All I had to do was say “no.” That simple word is what kept me from continuing to wonder about whether to or not. I actually felt good about saying hello when I saw her out on her porch, knowing that we were still friends and yet only friends. That is what I had missed out on. I’d never opened up or shared anything with anyone one to one, even when I
thought
I was in a relationship. A real relationship takes so much more. I was never able to get past the maturity barrier I’d kept from my childhood.