Illusionary: Chapter 2

If there was one thing I could say to adequately sum up the two years I spent loving Mason, well, quite honestly I’d be amazed because I’m yet to find any good means of description. 1

Lucky for me, he came into my life at a time when I was utterly opposed to the notion of love. At the age of 15, my future was veritably set; I was to be undoubtedly successful and happy, meaning that love had no place in my life just yet. Not for another five to ten years, I was told. Of course, I objected to this plan to many degrees, all of which failed to dissuade my ambitious parents. As the youngest child of their three children, they expected that I would learn from the mistakes from my older siblings and be wildly successful and have the oh-so-perfect life that God deprived them of. 2

Yeah, right. As if I had ever wanted anything to do with a white picket fence.3

Around the same time I met Mason, I was in the midst of realizing just how much my parents had influenced who I was. Very near sickened, I examined the hobbies I held dear and noticing that each of them was also an interest to one or both of my parents. Yet it was more than that; they had all but molded my personality from the soft clay of childhood with their own hands. Where my loud father never knew how to close his mouth, I too had a horrible knack to babble or speak too loudly when nervous. Worse than that - and the core of the problem - was Mom. As long as I could remember, she had been insecure about herself; she was too fat, too skinny, too ugly… her list of problems about herself never ended. The only thing she didn’t catch was overcritical, meaning that while she tore apart her own self-image, she slowly frayed mine. 4

I’d always considered myself fortunate enough to have a decent amount of confidence; I wasn’t an ass-kissing pacifist who sought invisibility, nor was I intimidatingly icy or snobby. My mother frequently reminded me that I was pretty, yet not as gorgeous as my older sister. I didn’t like being compared to Ashley. I loved her dearly despite her frequent lapses of judgment, but she was incredibly beautiful. Probably the reason I tended to regard myself as plain, it sometimes bothered me much more than I should have allowed. Another rip to my self-esteem caused by my mother.5

A combination of these things and still others that involved doubts in myself led me to believe that I would be one of those girls who was perpetually single; I never thought I’d be lucky enough to find I guy who cared for me. So in this one area, I agreed with my parents. No, love was not going to be an issue.6

Well, as I’m sure you’ve figured out, it turned out to be a much, much bigger issue than anyone could have imagined.7

The very first time I met Mason, I felt somehow strange. No, I don’t believe it had anything to do with “love at first sight” or any nonsense like that, but somehow I just knew that he was going to be important to me. Insanely funny, cute, and sincerely warm, we became close friends in a matter of months. Soon after, he asked me out and of course I said yes.8

We were one of those couples in high school that people stop questioning because we’d been together so long. After one year, I was in a state of blissful awe and after the third I knew I’d love him forever. Despite the many protests of my doubtful mother, I began picturing our future together, the one that he had affirmed for me. The first time he alluded to our future together, I felt as though happiness would erupt from my fingers.9

We were sitting in a Starbucks, talking in low, casual voices about college, the ever-looming anxiety for all high school students. Mason wanted to go the Merchant Marine Academy in New York.10

“Hmmm…New York,” I said, trying not to sound as melancholy as I felt at the thought.11

“Yeah, I know.” He laughed. “It’ll be weird to be in such a big city.”12

I nodded and sipped my chocolate coffee as I pictured him, leather messenger bag and aviator sunglasses, walking around the big apple. I had to admit, he could probably pull it off. Not that I exactly wanted him to.13

“So…what do you know about it?” I asked him. Despite my dislike for the thought of him being so far from me, I really was interested.14

“Well,” he started, looking down as his finger traced the lines on the table, “It’s like a regular four-year college. I’ll have two years of general education and then,” he stopped, glancing up at me. “Then I’ll have two years of sailing experience.”15

I stared at him questioningly.16

“‘Sailing experience?’”17

“Yeah. I’d be sailing to different ports around the world, off and on for about two years.”18

“Wow. That sounds really exciting.” I said, trying to sound enthused as I studied my coffee cup.19

And of course, it did sound exciting- a regular adventure. But two years was an awfully long time. I was entirely opposed to the idea, but I knew it would be horrible to say so. How often had I heard guys complain about their controlling girlfriends? And besides, if he really wanted to do this, how selfish would be of me to try and dissuade him?20

Very.21

Instead, I continued looking at the paper coffee cup, slowly turning it as though I were suddenly immersed in the design on the cardboard insulator. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn’t say anything.22

“Don’t you have an idea of where you want to go yet?”23

I considered him, his face probing mine for any trace of resolution. Grinning, I felt his foot caress mine under the table.24

“I have several. And none of them seem any more likely than the next. All I know is that I want to study art. Well, probably,” I added, remembering my slight reluctant interest in medicine that had been forced on me by Mom.25

“Well…” He paused, looking thoughtful. “You know, there are some art schools in New York.” Still smiling, he hesitantly looked up at my smiling face.26

“You mean you’re not going to break up with me when we graduate?” I teased. His face turned suddenly serious.27

“Why would I do that?” I was caught up in his expression; though his lips were still smirking, his eyes looked almost troubled.28

“Um....I don’t know…” I fidgeted. “So you wouldn’t miss me when you go away?” I slowly looked up at him, smiling uncertainly.29

“So then I could just miss you forever?”30

Forever. 31

I smiled as we collapsed into a pleasant silence.32

He finished his coffee and threw away the cup just as I was sipping the last of mine.33

I smiled at him playfully.34

“Let’s go back to your car.”35

He kissed my hair as I stood.36

“You, Laura, are a genius.”37

We left the coffee shop laughing, arms slung around each other.38