Jigsaw: Episode 7

Bryan

One very snowy January night, there I was, sitting in the foyer of Longhorn Steakhouse waiting for my date Bryan, the Laz Alonso look-alike, to arrive. We had only interacted briefly prior to our date, but this guy seriously gave me heebie jeebies! During dinner I came to learn that Bryan's cafe au lait complexion was attributed to the fact that he was biracial. His Caucasian mother took the credit for his creamy skin tone, slanted eyes, and slim, slightly-turned-up-at-the-tip nose, but those sultry dark eyes and full lips were his father's legacy. Don't get me wrong. He wasn't pretty. Almost, but not quite. Below his bottom lip existed a slightly raised scar that could be considered a flaw. But I, for one, found it sexy.

Although this terribly handsome specimen of a man was funny, easygoing, and very easy to talk to, I soon discovered that we were people from completely opposite sides of the track. While discussing our life's details over Parmesan crusted chicken, I learned that while I spent four years at a prestigious boarding school, he spent most of his high school years in a juvenile detention center. Then, while I was walking across the stage to receive my Bachelor's degree, he was probably being released from jail. . .the first time. I never would have imagined myself to be the Captain Save-An-Ex-Con type, yet there I was driving away from the restaurant, after good food and hours of conversation and laughs, going down the list of his bad habits that "we" were going to break. Why I thought this was my responsibility, I'm not sure. But maybe it was during those few unexpected moments when I noticed something tender and untainted about him despite his somewhat troubled life, that I thought that maybe I could have a good influence on him. I knew that spending time with him spelled "trouble" in all caps, but for once, I didn't care. I was just going to go with flow and see how things went. It was completely unlike me to live dangerously, but I guess I was ready for a change.

We made plans for a second date, and two nights, later Bryan made another 50-mile trip to hang out with me again. This time, we decided to catch a movie not too far from where I lived. After the movie, we headed over to Dave and Busters to engage in some friendly competition. That gave us a chance to talk more and get to know each other in a public and appropriate setting. He taught me how to play "Deal or No Deal" and I showed him that this girlie girl has a mean jump shot.


Since neither one of us was ready to go home yet and the mall was now closed, we sat and talked in his car in the mall's parking lot. Just when I thought I'd had this guy pretty much figured out, I learned that we weren't so terribly different after all. Bryan was raised in the church. He knew the Word, knew about God, but despite his upbringing, he and his brother, unlike his "goody two shoes" sister, developed a fascination with the fast life. As a drug dealer, he got caught up with the law, spending several stints in jail. I wasn't sure where he stood in the religion department until he confessed that he knew that God was up to something in his life. While he was at the peak of his "career," owning every material possession that a man could want: money in excess, luxury cars, vacation homes, a myriad of women, he found himself one day declaring to himself that there had to be more to life than what he was dealing with. There had to be more to life than getting money, sleeping with women, and just having a good time.

My life's story couldn't have been any more different than his, but I couldn't help but feel as though we didn't meet by happenstance. There was something about my story that made him want to believe that purity still existed in the world, and there was something about his story that caused me to realize that God isn't always working only through cookie-cutter righteous types, people who always played by the rules and colored inside the lines. Through him I realized that everyone is searching for God even if they don't know it and sometimes even when they're doing wrong. Bryan said he prayed, "Lord, there has to be more for my life that you want than this. If that's true, then I'll give up everything in exchange for my victory, happiness, and success." Within 48 hours, the police had repossessed his car and confiscated all of his money, and he was back in jail. But life after his release hadn't yielded the victory, happiness, and success he'd expected. As a result, his bitterness only grew and his frustration with "doing the right thing" at the expense of his once very comfortable lifestyle became more apparent.

As we spent more and more time together, I thought that because of my influence, he'd be the one making some changes, but it was me who was beginning to slip. . .fast. Caution, self-control, and delayed gratification were all things that had come to be second nature, but I felt myself  replacing them with spontaneity, curiosity, and recklessness, if only temporarily. Although our differences became more and more apparent with each meeting, so was our attraction to each other. I was falling, even if just a little it. But I knew it wasn't right. I wasn't going to marry this guy or raise a family with him. He was just something different. . .very different from what I was used to. I could rattle off a laundry list of things we didn't have in common and his bad habits, but it was those few good ones that kept me interested. And besides, I couldn't deny the fact that I actually liked him. Anyone that really knows me, knows that that's a miracle in and of itself. In the back of my mind though, I couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that I was wasting time, but another part of me was dying to not be so calculating and bent on "dating with a purpose." I'd never allowed myself to just "be" and just "do", so I was giving myself license to be a little reckless, if just for once.

But God had other plans. . .

I didn't want to bother him with a phone call during the Superbowl, so I texted instead. We chatted steadily throughout the night and everything seemed to be cool. Just as it had always been. I called him the next night, giving myself enough time to have a decent conversation before "Bad Girls Club" came on, but to my disappointment, his phone went straight to voice mail. I didn't think anything of it though and I just left a message and went on to enjoy the lineup of trashy Monday night reality TV. But he didn't return my call the next day or the day after that. It just wasn't like him to not at least text back. By Wednesday, I was a little peeved and concerned. I found his other cell phone number that was in my email and tried that one, but it had been disconnected. By this time, I was very confused. Is he avoiding me? Is he in trouble? Is he. . .dead? I didn't know what to think, but I did know that I was going to get to the bottom of it. If he was indeed dodging me, he'd have to tell me straight up. When I had gotten home from class later that night, I racked my brain to find a way to somehow get in touch with him. Suddenly, I remembered that I still had his address in my GPS from the time I went to visit him. I put the address and his mother's first name in whitepages.com and voila, a phone number appeared.  

OK, now I have a number, but am I actually going to use it? What if I went through this trouble to find his house number and nothing is even wrong? I'm just going to look like a psycho.

I stored the number in my phone, but decided to give it a few more days until I called it. Too anxious to wait an entire week from the last time we spoke to find out what happened to him, I gave in on Saturday and called the number several times throughout the day until someone finally answered.

"Hello?!" a mature female voice said.

"Hi" I greeted. "May I speak with Bryan, please?"

"Who?" the lady questioned.

"Bryan. Is this not his house?" Is this Bryan's mom? Oh, Lord. I hope this isn't the wrong number.

"Sweeheart, Bryan's in jail." she answered mater-of-factly. "And this is his aunt."

"Wow. I was just concerned about him because I couldn't get in touch because both of his cell phones were off this week." I explained. 

"Yeah, honey. He's been in jail all week." his aunt repeated.

"OK. Well, is there any information that you could give me so that I can get in touch with him?" I requested.

She then proceeded to give me the detention center's information and a web address to give me further instructions. The next day I wrote him a short letter to basically let him know that I was concerned that I couldn't get in touch with him and then even more so when I found out why I couldn't get in touch with him. I didn't know whether he was back in jail because of something that was beyond his control or because he went back into his old lifestyle, but I didn't need to know. I was just glad I wasn't a part of it.  In the days and weeks that passed after I sent the letter, I began to get back into my old rhythm. And it actually felt. . .right. Those weeks gave me a lot of time to reflect on my experience with Bryan. I will admit that it was kind of fun, a bit naughty, and a little dangerous, but I had to ask myself at what cost was I allowing myself to experience "life"? Little compromises here and there were made all in the name of "doing me," but I realized that that wasn't the type of person I really was. Him ending up back in jail was one of the best things that happened to me since I met him. The devil knows our weaknesses and in this case, mine just happened to be a sexy bad boy with a few good traits.

Maybe this story isn't over, but if there's one thing that I've learned from this situation, it's that you can't fit a square peg into a circle. . .no matter how hard you try.

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