The next day, I woke up, and knew that I had to pull myself together and go to work.
I felt like a semi truck had just run me over and I didn’t think I could go back to my normal, daily life after what just happened.
For the next week, I alternated between hope, grief, sadness, anger, and back to hope again.
My old friends came around and comforted me trying to pull me out of my depression but nothing worked.
The following Saturday morning, my mom opened my bedroom door and woke me up to say that Becky was on the phone and that she wanted to talk.
I ran to the phone and said, “Hello,” without quite believing that it was her.
I had tried to call her every day over the past week only to have her mother yell at me and tell me to stop calling their house.
They eventually changed their number.
“Becky?” I said.
“It’s me, they finally let me out of the house to go shopping and I drove to the first pay phone I could find. Becky said.
“Becky, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen!” I exclaimed.
“I know. That’s why I didn’t want you to talk with my father, because I knew what he would do,” She said.
“That night, after everything happened, we had a family meeting to discuss what had happened and my father said that you’re evil; a deceiver who only wanted to marry me with the ulterior motive of taking me away from them.”
“That’s not true! I told you many times what my plans were and I promised your parents that I had honorable intentions. I said.
“They have my brothers on the lookout for you, and told them to beat you up, if you get to close to the house,” she said.
I couldn’t believe it.
Two weeks previous, her parents and siblings were my close friends and now, they were my arch enemies ready to hurt me if I tried to rescue Becky from them.
“Whom do you believe, Becky? Them or me?”
“Tell me to go away and I will leave you alone, and never speak to you again. You know I never wanted to hurt you.” I said.
“Of course I believe you,” She replied.
“Do you still love me?” she asked
“Yes,” I said.
Even though I knew that her family was seriously screwed up and that her father was an absolute psycho, I still loved her and was prepared to fight for her.
“So, what do we do now?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh.
“Becky, we have to talk face to face.” I said.
“I know,” She replied.
“I can’t call you, and you can’t call me from your house, so how can we communicate?” I asked.
“Letters,” She said.
“You know the bird of paradise plant under the garage door window?” she asked.
“I remember,” I said.
“Every morning, I get up before everyone else and do chores around the house.”
“I will leave you a letter buried under the rock next to that plant.”
“When can I get it?” I asked.
“At night because it’s too dangerous for you now that they are on the lookout for you,” she said.
“You better not come until at least 1 a.m. when everyone is asleep.”
“In my letter, I will let you know when we can meet and talk.”
“I will leave the first letter for you tomorrow and you can pick it up by 1 a.m. Monday morning. I better get back home before they send someone after me.” She said.
“Becky why don’t you just run away?” I asked.
“Because, my little brother and sister need me and if I run away, my parents will find me.’ She said.
“Becky, I still love you and I’ll fight for you,” I said.
“I still love you too,” she said right before she said goodbye and hung up the phone.
After our conversation, I felt renewed.
I could get her back; our relationship still stood a chance even though I would have to fight for her.
I was ready for the fight and suddenly, I felt like I was preparing myself for battle.
I told my parents what happened and they tried to talk me out of pursuing her, but seeing that I wasn’t going to back down they told me that they supported me.
The next day, Sunday, I was filled with nervous energy as I planned out my moves to retrieve her letter by 1 a.m. Monday morning.
I couldn’t do anything but think about what awaited me in the early morning hours of Monday, I pictured her father running out of the house with a gun, or her brothers holding me down while her father beat the “evil spirits” out of me.
The hours flew by until it was finally the clock struck midnight and I drove to her house to pick up her letter by 1 a.m.
Once I got there, I parked far up the street and ran to her house, dressed in black.
I made it to her darkened house and ran up to her garage and dug next to the bird of paradise plant, and found her letter buried right where she said it was.
Suddenly somebody coughed inside the house and the garage lights came on, lighting up the area where I was hiding as if her father, the warden knew what I was doing and was coming out to stop me.
I didn’t wait around to say hello and ran like hell.
I felt like I was a jewel thief, running from museum security.
I got into my car, stepped on the gas, and floored it until I was out of the area. Once I calmed down, I pulled over to a gas station and began to read what her letter had to say.
It was chaos in her house.
After my blowout with her father, everyone there was on edge and her father didn’t trust anyone on the outside anymore. Her letter also said that they had to drug her and tie her down after I left because she couldn’t stop crying and trying to run away from them. She wanted to see me and suggested that we meet Friday morning to talk about what to do.
She said that she could meet me in my car a few blocks away by a school at 6 a.m. as she was going on her morning walk.
If I agreed to the plan, she asked me to write her back and leave my letter in the same spot the following morning.
When I got home, I immediately sat down and wrote my letter to her, agreeing to meet her early Friday morning to talk about what to do.
My parents thought I was crazy to pursue her after what her father did to me, but they could see that I was still in love and knew they couldn’t stop me, so they continued their support.
Early the next morning, I took my reply letter to her house and buried it in the same spot.
In a few days, we would meet again.
It had been almost three weeks since we last held each other.
Before that we had never been apart for more than a few days. I couldn’t wait to see her again, hold her in my arms, comfort her, and plan for the future.
What were we going to do?
I knew that I still wanted to marry her, but since her parents now hated me, that couldn’t happen like we planned.
I also knew that her parents had found a home in Oregon and planed to move in a few weeks and they would take Becky with them and any opportunities for us to be together.
Was I making the right decisions?
Was it really worth it?
Why couldn’t I just walk away?
What would her parents do to her if they found out?
These questions raced around in my mind as I thought about what I was going to say to her on Friday, and what I would recommend that we do.
I knew that it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was prepared to do everything I could do to make it work. Because I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else but her.