Authors: Kimberly Novosel
My month at home was broken up by a trip to L.A. to visit Anna. She took me to see Rodeo Drive and Hollywood Boulevard, where she took a picture of me with my hands in Marilyn Monroe’s handprints. I was fascinated by the city. When Anna was working, I would sit under a big tree in her family’s yard and read my Bible. I had thrown myself into deep personal Bible study; I was reading scriptures, learning how to apply the verses to my life and writing vigorously about it in my journal.
When I was home again, I told Chase all about my newfound religious convictions and he wasn’t totally supportive.
“Kit, I think it’s attractive that you have something to believe in but it’s just not for me,” he said.
That was fine with me. We spent every day together until I left for Nashville again, though we kept arguing about my suddenly strengthened dedication to God’s plan for my life. Finally we just decided it was something we couldn’t talk about. Chase was Catholic but he wasn’t sure what he believed in, and, really, he didn’t have any kind of interest in thinking about it too much.
The thing we fought most about wasn’t God or religion, it was that with my faith strengthened I did not want to have sex with him or even fool around as much as we had before. He felt rejected and he didn’t understand why this was so important to me. It was hard for me to explain to someone who didn’t have the upbringing that I had had or the beliefs I was trying to hold on to. Once we quit talking about it, things felt almost but not quite like the summer before. We stopped fighting but the rift was still there.
July, 2001.
Back in Nashville, I moved into my first real apartment. I brought my own furniture from home, the navy and black futon from my bedroom and the old brown couch from our basement. I loved having rooms to walk through, including a bathroom that would be just for us and my own bedroom; it was independence!
There was a guy who sat next to me in Music Publishing class and sometimes, we would make small talk together before class started or after it had ended. If he wasn’t there one day, I would catch him up on what he missed and he would do the same for me. His name was Brian and he was from Atlanta. He was a year ahead of me and had transferred to Belmont that spring. He had dark spiky hair and he was tall, though he hunched a little. Most days he wore button-down shirts with loud floral prints or solid bright colors paired with khaki cargo shorts and sandals.
One day, in the elevator after class, Brian asked me if I would like to go to a show with him. It never hurts to make a new friend, I thought, especially since none of my friends were there for the summer, so I said yes. He took me to dinner and to see a country band play. He wore a black collared button-down shirt and his signature shorts and sandals. He asked tons of questions and seemed genuinely interested in the answers. He was polite and easy to talk to. I was surprised to find that I had a really nice time.
We went out again a few nights later. He would always pick me up even though our apartments were no more than a four-minute walk from each other. He would always come to my apartment door and open the door of his shiny red car for me.
A true southern gentleman,
I thought,
clearly raised well by his mother.
At first, I didn’t mention Brian to Chase or Chase to Brian. I felt there was no reason to throw it in Brian’s face or to hurt Chase, and I was scared to discourage either of them. I just needed to see how this would play out.
I should have seen it coming. I had been out with Brian several times and I could tell he liked me but at that point, I still felt that I was just enjoying his company. One evening, after we had been out to dinner, I was sitting in an overstuffed chair in his apartment with my feet tucked underneath my legs.
“I’m gonna grab a beer. Would you like a drink?” he asked, getting up from the couch. His dark hair glistened in the dim evening light that seeped through the window, and he flashed me a smile that reached his eyes.
“Sure!” I said, smiling back. He knew my drink by then so I didn’t have to specify.
When he came back, he handed me a cool glass of jack and coke, leaned over and kissed me. Just like that, I was surprised but I was more amazed by how good the kiss was; it was soft, sweet and confident. There were definitely sparks between us. At that moment, I began to think that maybe he was more than just someone to hang out with.
We continued to date through the summer. I began to find him truly charming: his chuckle, his ease in groups of people—something I’d always found difficult—as well as his generally happy mood. He was intelligent, he was a good listener, and most importantly he was encouraging. He thought I was fun and interesting and mature. He was also a little rebellious, which thrilled me. He came off as a wholly responsible, good guy but he wasn’t a “goody-two shoes” and that suited me well.
I couldn’t bring myself to tell Chase that I was seeing someone in Nashville. It was starting to seem inevitable that he would have to know but I wasn’t ready to cut ties there just yet. At some point, I found a way to work into a conversation with Brian that I had been dating someone back home, though not exclusively. He was really understanding about it. I guess he just figured,
Well I’m here and that guy’s not
, and he was right. He was there every day to kiss me and talk to me and be an active part of my life. When it came time to make a decision, I chose to commit to Brian. It really came down to the fact that he was there and Chase wasn’t and that wasn’t Chase’s fault.
When
Megan moved in, we bought heavy black curtains to hang on the windows, painted the coffee table black before putting our handprints on it in blue. We covered the ugly brown sofa with a blue couch cover. I decorated my bedroom in pink and Megan decorated hers in purple. We made the apartment our home and it felt good.
Megan liked Brian. They would tease each other like brother and sister and the three of us started hanging out a lot. Brian would make us little pancakes with chocolate syrup, Megan would pick the movies and I would make the drinks. This was becoming routine.
We were in the living room one day with Brian and I on the couch and Megan on the futon, watching country music videos on CMT. It was early afternoon but no light came in to our black and blue room.
This is my life,
I thought.
I am here and Megan is my best friend and Brian is my, well, boyfriend. I can’t deny it anymore.
Sitting there in the dark I knew, I couldn’t keep Chase in the dark any longer. I went into my pink bedroom and lay on the bed in silence, staring at the twinkle lights above me.
Like fireflies in my own enchanted forest. If only I could believe in enchantment.
In September, Megan rode the ten hours home
with me to Westville for a weekend. She stayed with my family one evening while I went to Chase’s house to tell him in person. We sat on the edge of his bed, each looking down
at our knees. I was as kind as I could be. He wasn’t as understanding this time. He didn’t blame me, necessarily, though he was hurt and I was the cause of it. I showed my sadness but I was strong. This was my decision and the least I could do was to stand by it.
He wasn’t shocked, I don’t think. I knew the year I’d been gone had been hard for him too. He said he didn’t want to talk to me for a while, and as hard as it would be for me to not be able to talk to him, I knew I had to respect his decision. We both needed time to heal. He wished me the best but I couldn’t say the same words to him. It sounded like goodbye and I didn’t want to say goodbye. It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, rather, it was that he was so far away and I had no way of knowing if or when he would be able to follow me to Nashville. That had worn on me and having Brian in my life reminded me how great it was to be able to see someone every day. If Chase had been in Nashville I would have been with him, but that wasn’t possible right now.
I drove back to the house where Megan was waiting for me and we lay on the sleeper sofa in the den until I was so tired from sobbing that I passed out. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt. My first heartbreak was a pinprick next to this cannonball hole. My heart was caving in, but I didn’t see any other way. As much as I loved Chase, this was not something that we could hold on to. I had to grow up; it was time to build my new life.
Back at Belmont, Megan, Brian, and
I were inseparable. Megan and I were enjoying a new level of independence in the apartments, where rules were nearly impossible for the school to enforce. Brian would buy us alcohol and we would all hang out in our apartment and drink or we would go over to Brittany’s, whose apartment building was right across from ours. Sometimes we went out to Belmont parties, where they would have free drinks or dollar shots.
I didn’t contact Chase as he had requested. I avoided being alone because that was when I would start thinking about him and wish to heaven I could hear his voice. I was distracted enough by Brian
and Megan every waking moment. I was rarely without Brian every sleeping moment even though my bedroom only had a twin bed. He would often come over after I had already gone to sleep. He was with the guys, he always told me, but he never said where or what they were doing. He tasted of beer on those nights, and though I never drank beer, I loved the taste of it on his mouth.
I turned nineteen in November. All of our friends came over to our apartment, and Megan and I did a great job hosting, making sure no one was without a drink, especially ourselves. Earlier that day, Brian had given me a sapphire necklace that matched a ring he had given me the month before. I didn’t know how to wear real jewelry like that but the gesture wasn’t lost on me.
“Happy birthday, baby,” he said, fastening the sparkling necklace over my Belmont t-shirt. He was practically bouncing with excitement.
“It’s beautiful! I love this color,” I said, touching the stone and admiring the deep blue. As I turned from the mirror it crossed my mind that I looked like a little girl playing dress up.
The rest of the semester went on very much the same way: in a haze of drinking, skipping a lot of class, forgetting what was important to me. I became one-dimensional. My identity was made up completely by the presence of Megan on my right and Brian on my left. What music I liked, how I spent my time, and how I saw myself were defined by the two of them. I was as dependent on my little crew of two as they were on me.
Brian and I started talking about marriage and we agreed that we would wait until we were out of school, but we were in love and it was so fun to talk about who would be in the wedding. Megan would be maid of honor, of course, and the bridesmaids would wear pink. It would be in a beautiful coastal park in Georgia. We even picked out rings at the jewelry store where he had been shopping for me lately.
Despite the partying, we had all been raised in Christian families and had some semblance of a relationship with God. I had such a strong awareness of the importance of having God in my life that once I was on my own, the time
when many people lose the drive to attend church, I had been visiting Nashville churches trying to find one that suited me. Though I was raised Catholic, I had chosen not to be confirmed and instead was considering other denominations. I felt that Catholicism had some wonderful traditions but was too based on God’s laws and I thought that the teachings often overlooked the importance of God’s love.
One Sunday, Megan and I visited a church that we had heard many Belmont students attended. It was called
River
and it was in the Brentwood area just south of Nashville. River was very evangelical. The leaders laid hands on people, the congregation was prone to throwing their hands in the air during songs or during the Sermon, and both the leaders and the church body spoke in tongues.
If I was looking for more passion in a Church, this one definitely had it. The pastor was very charismatic, with a blinding smile and humor in his Sermons. The music was fantastic, which is probably a big reason why Belmont students enjoyed the Church. Megan and I continued to attend and Brian often joined us. Sometimes, on our way to church, we would divert our path to the Cracker Barrel for breakfast instead but most weeks we at least tried to go.
I went home for Christmas break. Chase and I had hardly been in contact, but he knew I was in town and he wanted to see me. I wanted nothing more than to believe that there was still something there between us, even if now wasn’t the time, and even if I was getting serious with Brian. It was as if there were two of me, Chase’s Kit and Brian’s Kim, and though only one was dominant at any given time, they both existed inside me, hoping and loving and aching.
Chase had rearranged his bedroom furniture. It felt strange to me, like there was less of me in it, like the memories we created together had been displaced. We put a movie on but mostly we just talked; we curled up on the bed with him sitting a safe distance away. He was completely closed off. I talked to fill the space, telling him about school and about some song lyrics I had been writing. I didn’t know why, exactly, but I was still trying to show him how perfect we were for each other. Maybe I wanted him to fight for me or to wait for me. I made an effort not to talk about Brian and he didn’t ask. I wanted so badly for him to touch me, to move closer to me and put his hand on my hip or run his fingers through my hair but he didn’t. He kept his distance and would barely even look me in the eye. I knew it was hard for him. It was hard for me and I was the one who was seeing someone else. I was the one who was supposed to be happy.