"A Deeper Shade of Blue - My Soul Mate" (3/4)

Because of work and ministry commitments, year number two of college, I moved out of my dorm and moved in with my brother, Butch and his family. I made the daily commute to school… nearly an hour each way.

My daily ritual was to call Jan each day when I arrived home from school and we would make our plans for the evening… which usually meant we would hang out at her house or mine. Being a poor college student, I couldn’t afford to do much else.

On this particular day, the ritual would be broken. I would call her, but there would be no “hanging out.” Tonight, I would break my promise to marry her.

Adults don’t break up over the phone. Adults break up in person. Cowards break up over the phone. Today, the equivalent would be breaking up via text message or email. Time to man up.

So, I broke up over the phone.

Before you judge me too harshly, I fully intended to handle the touchy matter face to face. I really, really did. But the tenor of our conversation tipped Jan off that something was amiss. My tone and demeanor were obviously different. My voice failed to disguise the heaviness of my heart.

I’ll never forget the tone and volume of her voice when she figured it out. “Are you going to break up with me?!?”

She repeated the phrase twice. The second time louder than the first. Her voice, almost a scream, was high pitched and seemed to be a blend of anger, hurt and fear.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I searched in vain for the proper response. This is not how I had mapped it out in my mind. This was supposed to be handled with tenderness and compassion… in person.

I finally broke the silence. “I’ll come pick you up. Let’s talk face to face.”

She declined the offer. She had no desire to see my face or be in my presence in that moment. She was sobbing. I felt helpless. I felt horrible. But despite the clumsiness of my approach… it had to be done.

Attending the same church as Jan and her parents was really awkward in the months following our break-up. Her mom was especially bitter towards me. She had treated me as family and in return, I had broken her daughter’s heart.

Eventually, Jan started dating another guy at our church… a friend of mine, actually. That eased the tension between us and over the course of time, we all became friends. In fact, I was a groomsman in their wedding. During the reception, Jan’s mom came over to me and gave me a big hug. It was the first time since the break-up that she had spoken a word to me. The hug made me feel better… I loved her family.

Now that I was a free man, I could talk to Debi (See previous blog submission) with a clear conscience. And I did.

Our first date was in February of 1979. We talked about taking it slow since I had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and because she had been terribly hurt in a previous relationship. But, as it turned out, we took it anything but slow!

Our college… Pacific Coast Baptist Bible College, was affectionately known as “Pacific Coast Baptist BRIDAL College.” I soon found out why!

Once we started dating, Debi hit the relationship accelerator and I followed along dutifully. You would think that I would have known better. But alas, I was still young and foolish.

I chased her and chased her until she caught me. She asked why I hadn’t kissed her yet, and so I kissed her. She asked why I hadn’t told her that I loved her yet, and so I told her that I loved her. She asked why I hadn’t asked her to marry me yet, so I proposed.

Um… yes… I proposed… after three months of dating… I proposed. She accepted.

We were engaged in May and had set our wedding date for October 5th of that same year, 1979. Everything about that relationship was rushed. I was set to be married prior to my 21st birthday.

We found an apartment in Downey, California… where she would live alone until the wedding and then that would become our first place together as a married couple. She moved into the apartment in June.

That summer was consumed with wedding plans. We chose the venue, picked our wedding attendants, decided on colors, the reception menu and talked about honeymoon plans. We bought our announcements, had a cake knife engraved with our names and our wedding date and the bridesmaids began buying the material to make their dresses. We both lined up jobs in the area.

In July, I began to have doubts.

Brother Bill and Janet

My brother, Bill, could sense my sudden lack of enthusiasm about my wedding and he confronted me about it. At first, I denied that anything was wrong, but he persisted and I eventually spilled my guts. I told him about the doubts that had crept into my thoughts.

I expected him to tell me that it was natural to have cold feet and that as soon as I got married, all the doubts would melt away and we would ride off into the sunset in wedded bliss. But that’s not what he told me. He said, “As long as you haven’t said ‘I do,’ it’s not too late to back out.”

I would never forget that phrase. However, in that moment, I dismissed the notion of calling the wedding off. Too many plans had been made.  I was stuck. No turning back.

Debi and my relationship began to suffer. She sensed that I had pulled back and my lack of willingness to address the issue began to take its toll on her. We bickered about it.

Wednesday… August 15^th… about seven and a half weeks before the wedding. I know it was a Wednesday because we were planning to attend our midweek church service. I called Debi to let her know that I was heading to the apartment to pick her up.

It was supposed to be a simple, brief conversation but it turned into a squabble. Par for the course. I don’t remember the catalyst for the argument, I just remember thinking… “Here we go again.”

“Look… we can settle this later. I don’t want to be late for church. I’ll be there to pick you up in 20 minutes.” And that was my intent. But as soon as I hung up the phone, Bill’s words echoed loudly in my mind… “As long as you haven’t said ‘I do,’ it’s not too late to back out.”

At that moment, I decided… I’m going to break this thing off… tonight… right now… in person.

I knocked on the door of the apartment. Debi opened the door and stepped toward me, as if to hug me… and I took a step back. Her eyes widened as she gave me an intent stare and I knew… that she knew. It’s over.

The next three hours were nightmarish. Debi had endured some significant, emotional pain in her lifetime and now, I had just inflicted her with more. It certainly was not my intent but it was the net result. To put it mildly, she took it hard. At times I was sympathetic. At other times, I was flat out frightened. At 10PM, I finally felt comfortable enough to leave her alone.

Bill lived just a mile away and I swung by his house to let him know what had happened. I told him that his words had come to mind earlier that evening and that he had been right… it wasn’t too late to call it off.  

He nodded with affirmation and asked me if I was sure about this decision. I assured him that I was. Despite the three hours of trauma, I had a peace about the decision.

Before I left, Bill had one more gem for me. “This might not be the time to mention this but… Jeana Gordineer isn’t engaged anymore. So… she’s available. Thought you might want to know.”

I still needed some recovery time from having just called off my pending wedding but I’d be lying if I told you that Bill’s revelation didn’t seep into my already crowded mind and thoughts.

Jeana Gordineer is available…

To be continued…