I found myself standing in a long line waiting to get into the One Thing Conference 2007, in Sacramento, California. I was alone. I was sure I had already registered, and said impatiently to the guy standing in front of me, “it looks like it may have been better to not pre-register since those people are getting in faster than we are.” He agreed and we laughed about it until we finally got in to the auditorium. Because the first floor was full, we seated ourselves on the second floor, together. I was not excited about sitting next to Scott. I would rather have sat alone until Julie arrived a bit later.

The meeting that night ended at about 10:30. Julie left right away to catch a flight to southern California for a weekend wedding. I was left alone with Scott, and politely excused myself and started out into the lobby. I began to make my way through the barricade of excited, chatting people. Scott followed me. At one point he ran into some people he knew, said hello to them without stopping to talk. A second time he bumped into some close friends of his. They pulled him aside to shake hands and pat each others back. I kept walking towards the exit and out to my car. When I looked back, I noticed Scott was looking at me, and frantically trying to pull himself away from his friends. I said I was going home for the night, and continued walking. Thank goodness for those buddies of his that pulled him in their direction.

My four friends from Santa Barbara joined me the next day at the conference. During one of the breaks, I bumped into Scott. He was with two of his friends as well. I did not introduce my friends to him. However, his two friends seemed to know quite a lot about me already, even my name. They said hello, and quickly took off, leaving Scott alone with me. Scott is in a desperate search for a female companion, and because I was kind enough to say hello, he thought I might be that special female friend.

Scott asked me to dinner once. I kindly rejected his invitation. I am not sure at what point that weekend I became his honey but that’s what he called me. I spent a few minutes talking with him, we sat next to each other the first night, and bumped into each other once, a conversation that lasted 2 minutes and he thinks I love him? This was a bold move for Scott.

I admit I am not the most experienced at relationships. In fact, I may be one of the more inexperienced for my age group. I have only had two relationships in my life, which I will share about at a later time. I am glad I have little relationship experience. Somehow, I feel more whole, not chewed up and spit out, used, and unwanted. Even so, I am still a ragamuffin and I have some boy meets girl stories to share.

I haven’t always felt like that my inexperience in the relationship department is boast worthy. In fact, I have at times felt ashamed by it. One guy, whom I had briefly dated in college, actually decided he didn’t want me because it had been so long since I had been in a “real relationship.” I will share more about him later, but for now, what is a real relationship? Bearing each others burdens, sharing life’s moments for better AND for worse, laughing together, crying together, growing together spiritually, emotionally, mentally, maintaining that fondness you have for each other even when geographical distance tries to limit it. I am really good at being a friend, and I have had my friends for over a decade now, some shorter, some longer. I’ve lived with some of my best friends and even after the experience I have been able to maintain that closeness with them. This should say something about having real relationships.

It seems rather illogical to me, but people actually believe that being in previous relationships that obviously ended in brokenness, damage, severe pain, rejection, verbal and sometimes even physical abuse makes them more whole. Sure there are lessons that were learned from the experience. But the question is not what you learned as a result of that relationship, but did that relationship play in irreplaceable role in your life? In other words, could you have learned those lessons without all the damage? Must you be in a relationship to learn those lessons? I think that provided you are paying attention in life, lessons can be learned without such abuse to yourself. Than there’s the argument, “Even though the pain, I have so many wonderful memories that outweigh. I have no regrets.” Good for you, and those memories are always going to be cherished by you. However, there may be moments that you shared with one person that will no doubt be resented and even envied by the next person. Don’t cast your pearls before the swine.

At about 19, after two relationships, I was done with the dating scene, and I meant it, until about half way through my 23^rd year on the planet. For 5 years I said good-bye to fickle love and I dedicated my time and energy to loving and trusting God. I was productive. Since then, there have been guys come and go. I call them my fleeting interests where either they are interested, or I am, it’s usually one sided, short lived and cannot be taken seriously. The story of Scott above is an example of a fleeting interest. Below are a two more I have chosen to share with you.

I liked John, but had some major concerns.

We met one night at a show in Folsom. We spent some time dancing and there was an immediate connection. He finally swung me over his shoulder, off the dance floor, and out onto the back patio. We started talking, flirting. We separated for some reason, I went back to my party, and he went back to his. On the way home that night, John called me asking me to pick him up, he was waiting outside for me.  “I am standing on the street here. What are you going to do about it?” He said. “What I am going to do is go home and sleep.” John was upset by this, and hung up on me.

The next day, John called me to apologize about everything. Because I liked him, I told him it was completely disrespectful, arrogant, and inappropriate. However I let him apologize and we started the new day with a new slate.  Big waste of time!

We spent about a month and half dating. It was difficult since he lived in Grass Valley, 45 minutes away. But occasionally we would meet in the middle. John always paid for everything. I have to give him a little credit because he tried very hard.

New Years Eve, I called John to wish him a happy new year. He told me I should come over to his place and hang out for a bit. It was too far to drive, and I had plans already. That was the last conversation I had with John.

John was a fighter.  He had some of his own heart-wounds.  He had a lot of anger, from his past, from his present, from a broken relationship with his parents, his sister, from his father. He called me while I was at work one afternoon. He was at the hospital where my father worked, telling me about the fight he was in the night before, and asking me who my father was. I have compassion for John. I enjoyed the excitement and the spontaneity John has about life, the threat he carries with him in his countenance. I enjoyed giving him the encouragement he wanted to hear. In that, there was a sense of control I felt. John wanted something so desperately. I cared as much as I could for him. In the end, there was too much anger, too much disrespect. It was too much for me to get too involved.

My first quarter in college I met Jeremy. He was passive aggressive, just like my dad. We had a class together and spent some time studying. He invited me over to his place several times, most often when there was some event he was having, and he had quite a few.

That summer, both of us stuck around Santa Barbara for summer school. We started spending more time together, since the majority of the student body went home for the summer. He was a friend. One night, after seeing a movie, Jeremy tried to kiss me. He literally leaned in, closed his eyes, and half way opened his mouth. It seemed to me as though he paused in this position for a very long time, waiting for me to lean into him and kiss. Instead, I turned my head and said, “You don’t have to kiss me.” “I had my chance the other night, and I didn’t do it.” he replied.  The truth is that the other night I would probably have reacted in a similar way. I was not attracted to Jeremy at all, did not see myself ever becoming attracted to him, and appreciated his friendship and his friendship only!

About a month went by before Jeremy and I talked again. Even then, it was only because we bumped into each other on State Street. I went home early that night to watch some movies with a couple of friends, and Jeremy called me in hopes that I would invite him over. I did not. He graduated and moved back home to start his career in film-making. I have not talked with Jeremy since.