{a very long} Skip to my Lu

Some relationships are nearly impossible to describe.

During my three years of college apartment-living, I roomed with 20 different girls. (Yes, twenty, 2-0.) None caused me as much confusion, frustration, self-criticism and emotional pain as Lu did. And somehow, none made me love them any more.

Is this normal? I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyway….she did, and I did.

I met Lu my first semester at BYU. We were in the same Freshman Academy “envelope” and were placed in the same group for our first history research paper. I was baffled by her rapid-fire dialogue, impressed by her sophistocated vocabulary (truly), and most of all, endeared by her quick wit. She was the only one in FA I cared to become friends with. Of course, after the semester was over we exchanged email addresses and never spoke again.

(Well, at least until much later.)

Fast forward a year. I was in Vienna for the semester, wondering where to live when I returned because -of course- I hadn’t planned ahead. (I refused to sign a contract until about a week before the semester began, and somehow it always worked out nicely. This oft-recurring predicament caused me much less stress than it should have.) At this point I was stressed, praying for help and writing emails to family and friends. Then out of the blue came an email from a former roommate, who had an open spot in her apartment of sophomore girls – including some “Lu” person who remembered me from freshman year. I knew in that moment that my prayers had been answered.

After a series of un/fortunate events I moved into Lu’s room and began a turbulent, emotional semester. I often felt that Lu was a new, improved version of ME - right down to her sky-blue eyes and and natural bombshell-blond hair. She was outgoing, friendly and constantly the center of attention, where I was shy and (more often than I'd like to admit) antisocial. She was athletic and a better musician than I. She was adventurous; I was not.

And to top it all off, this girl was deep. Stay-up-all-night-talking, fathom-probing questions, spill-my-guts-out deep. I told her anything she wanted to know. But I didn't ask questions myself.
So I know any problems were caused by me. Lu tried (unsuccessfully) to hide a budding relationship and her roommates grew exasperated. She wrote missionaries and played racketball and went visiting teaching; we went to dance parties and bonfires and ate ice cream with butterknives. She juggled more things than I could comprehend, and with finesse. More than anything else, I was jealous of her time.

It broke my heart the day she said that I hadn't been the friend she had hoped for.

Oh yes, and there was the day I sent her on a hike with my old friend, knowing full well that I was feeding her to the wolf.
Poor Lu! I knew you'd come back furious, and you did. You were right: I was sending you to deal with my problems (I didn't know how to deal with them, you know), and I was (maybe) leading him on (a little), and it was wrong of me to do that to him and to you, oh boy. That was a rough week, wasn't it?

Then summer came and we separated; our friendship survived on G-chat conversations and occasional phone calls. Highland, the Villa, Fall, Jerusalem, Apartment 35, Bonnie and her grandma, Nokes, Winter, Returning Missionaries. Broken hearts and bitterness. We decided to live together in the spring, and for once I signed a contract 3 months early. Little did I know that 3 months later I would be engaged.....

We romanticized about the spring term we would spend together, talking through the nights like old days. It didn't exactly turn out that way. More returned missionaries, an engagement and a couple moves later, I was making wedding plans and Lu was working on mission papers. (Two more things I'm jealous about - things worked out with My Son and she gets to serve a mission.) I got married and we were separated permanently.

Since then, things have been different, and that's OK. I do miss the talks and the laughs and most of all, the singing. Last weekend was my last glimpse of the lady for at least 18 months.

I'll miss you Lu; you'll be a fantastic missionary. Just let them see that light -we've all seen it- that radiates from within you.

And Korea, take good care of my Lu for me, will you?