I was young. I was naïve. I thought I had life figured out. I had traveled the world and
been so far east as the Micronesian islands and so far west as England. I had lived on the west
coast and I had lived in a fly over state. I thought I had done it all. Now of course I had more
goals in life; more places I wanted to see, more things I wanted to do. Despite being so well put
together (in regards to life experiences), I think for the most part, I had sort of been drifting along
when it came to my career choice.
I had fallen in love, hard, in the seventh grade. Ah, those wonderful junior high
memories. And I had built this strong relationship that I could always count on, even when I
thought I couldn’t count on other people. When the world walked out, he walked in. I had loved
him through the mortifying junior high days and even though the stressful high school days.
Some say high school romances never last in this day and age. I say that they’re wrong. You see,
he was creative writing (poetry, short essays, you name it I wrote it) and he was always there. He
was there at 2 A.M. He was there at the day’s end. He was always around. I thought I could
never love anything more than I loved him. He knew all of my secrets, and he even knew the
dreams I was too afraid to tell anyone. He knew me like no one else did.
Now, though. Now that’s all different. I could never understand when people would say
that over time and in new experiences, you would grow and change and not be the person you
once were. And that people would say this is why they would get a divorce because as it would
turn out, their changes made them just too different. It’s been nearly three months away from my
sleepy little town and I can’t even recognize myself in the mirror in the morning (although, that
could be where I have ten minutes to get to class… Not being a morning person… that
characteristic will never change). I’ve experienced things that I didn’t even know I had wanted to
experience. I started enjoying things I thought I always hated. The one thing that changed me,
though, was my Introduction to American Criminal Justice System (CJC 101) class with
Professor Williams. Initially, I thought I would like it, not love it, since I had wanted to try the
Criminology course originally as my social science class. It was my only class on Tuesdays and
Thursdays, so I knew I would have a special fondness for it. I didn’t know mid-August that I
would fall in love all over again. This time, with someone new, someone so different than I had
ever known.
I certainly hope creative writing isn’t jealous. I still love him and hope we can still be
friends. I still wouldn’t mind teaming up and writing away that novel to get published or opening
up that publishing company like I had dreamed of during my senior year. But that’s just it. My
senior year was a blurred rush, filled with deadline after deadline, trying to figure out what it was
I wanted to do with my life and somehow word it to impress people giving out scholarships. I
think I relied on him so much that I just kind of rushed into things, not ever thinking I could find
someone else new, someone else I loved more.
Criminal Justice, he’s a fine fellow. He’s strong in every aspect: mentally, physically, and
emotionally. He isn’t a mix of confused emotions, he isn’t nearly as neurotic as creative writing
was. I always loved the passion that came with creative writing, but the passion of criminal
justice I love more. I love that criminal justice is not concrete, that there is still fluctuation space
within him. He understands me in a different way. He stabilizes my world and gives me what’s
concrete, leaving me to figure out the conclusion all on my own. He makes me feel important
and that I could change the world. He emphasizes humbleness and selflessness. Creative writing
always wanted to know about me and our talks, however long or short, would always be about
me. And as a female, that’s nice. To have someone actually care and want to hear about you all
the time. But criminal justice showed me that there is so much to do, so much more to be outside
of that.
I usually head over to CJ’s (as I like to call him) place about twice a week. I go to my
CJC 101 class and thinking that Professor Williams is a genius for grabbing some Starbucks, I
sneak on over and get a cup myself. Afterwards, I conveniently find my way to North Quad and
visit with CJ, just for a little while. I explain to him that it’s just so hard loving him and
sometimes I’m not sure I can break through that Kevlar vest that protects his heart. He reminds
me that it isn’t easy loving someone who carries a magnum and takes the phrase “take one for
the team” to heart, even if that means undoing his place in this world. And it’s sentiments like
that that reinforce that although loving him is hard, it will always be worth it. I tell him about my
plans for the future and how they include working in D.C. as an Internal Affairs Officer with
people who are like him and I, and how at the end of the day, all I want to do is make a
difference. I ask him what he looks for in a girl and he raises his brow, just slightly, as if to say,
“Are you sure you can handle this?” I chuckle. Always investigating and profiling. Always. Then
I get lost in this bombardment of information he sends my way. He says he likes a girl who is
smart, doesn’t mind if she happens to be toting around a 3.5 GPA. To him, experience is key. He
doesn’t want some rookie blue, and he goes on and on about how it would be so attractive if she
had an internship on the federal level. He talks about how he wants to go global, dreams of being
an international powerhouse, and says that he hopes she knows a foreign language to help him
connect with people around the world. He cares about fitness since that means efficiency and
wants to find someone that has a knack for trying to stay in shape. He wants someone who
understands ethics and maintains honesty and preserves the truth.
I can’t help but hope he finds all of those things, those beautiful, admirable things in me.
I hope he feels the same way about me as I feel about him. And if he does, then I can’t wait to
spend the rest of my life with him, loving him forever until forever stops.