Why I hate when you smoke, a poem

How I hate when you smoke

Revised with a new title and everything. A special thanks to Mary Brown.

On the rare occasion I want to
stand outside with you
while you hold and light, inhale and exhale in puffs    puffs     puffs,
I stand close to you.
I breathe out slow, like you do.
I pretend the cold air’s my secondhand smoke,
while I inhale yours.

I’d never smoke.
D.A.R.E. taught me a thing or two about the tar, the nicotine
that addicts you,          traps you.           I wouldn’t even
dare try to light one. (You’ve seen me with one of those things.
I nearly burn my finger off letting
the butane out of its yellow, plastic trap.)
So most of the time I stay inside
while you find a friend to smoke with.

You ask me what’s wrong.
You think it’s the cigarette itself.
“I only smoke one a day, maybe less.”
I tell you I don’t care, and mean it.
Those surgeon general jokes I make are only meant for laughs.
Because the truth is             I think smoking’s hot.
You’re like Gatsby.

It’s the way you hold it,
the way your big hand handles something so small –
so delicate, so intimate.
Put to your mouth like a kiss.

Unsaid

Some things are better left unsaid.

V.

“Talk to me,” he says,

caressing her hand

and fondling the wrinkles

of her numb fingers.

She says, “I’m fine.” Not

that he asked.

They walk with naked

stares into the night.

She pulls out

her hand from his hand

and shoves it into her pocket.

“Baby, come on. What

gives?”

She thinks

of a better lie to tell,

but she can’t. So she says

the same thing again

only slower, harder.

A cynic's take on Summit Week

Life has been going well. My work load has lessened; my classes still interest me. Ironically enough, I feel it's as good of time as any to write about cynicism. Maybe I won't have to label this blog with "rant" or "disillusioned," but maybe that's wishful thinking.

This week was Spiritual Emphasis Week, or "Summit," where IWU invites outside pastors to speak and worship is (usually) obnoxiously loud and fun. Of the three Summits I've been to, not including this semester's, two have turned my beliefs upside down.

And I expected God to do it again. I figured, hey, since I'm trying to figure out what to do about this PLC internship, I bet I'll find out during Summit. God speaks so clearly then; of course I'll magically know what to do.

Maybe just because I thought that God would make this easy for me he decided not to. I didn't really learn anything during Summit this semester.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. I learned some stuff. I learned how our society is rotting and it's our divorced parents' fault. (Ha, that's another exaggeration.)

Let me back up.

I finished re-reading "The Unlikely Disciple" by Kevin Roose, a memoir about his semester at Liberty University. But here's the kicker: he's not a right-wing evangelical Christian. I know there are a few non-Christians at IWU and even more democrats, but that's not a line you tread at Liberty U. This is Jerry Falwell's school. The guy is the Pat Robertson of the 80s and 90s (really up until his death in 2007). I'm just trying to make connections here. Most of you know who Falwell is anyway. Hint: he blamed gay people and the ACLU for 9/11.

The first time I read this book, over July 4th, I became almost disgusted by how similar IWU is to LU. I mean, I don't think our biology professors teach strictly young-age creationism and I know bringing Sean Hannity onto IWU's campus would not bring as much mirth to the Wildcats. But IWU is pretty conservative. And a tad fundamental. And we can get so caught up in trivial things.

(In one chapter, Kevin has to go to an accountability group to help with his masturbation. The guys in the group talk about the week's "falls" and give each other advice about how to stop touching themselves. Kevin realizes how backwards this is: Liberty is so focused on combating a "victimless crime" like masturbation and homosexuality instead of caring for the poor and marginalized. Are we the same way?)

But even more than our concern on seemingly trivial issues - because there is a time and place for that - we're good at provoking graceless guilt.

Back to Summit Week. This semester's theme was "You Asked for It." Students got to post questions on a blog about sex and dating, and our chapel speakers answered them on stage.

In theory, this is a cool idea. How often do you hear a pastor say, "masturbation!" or "orgasm!" in chapel? But really, it got pretty ridiculous. Not that these pastors said much I disagreed with - though a few things were a bit too conservative to my liking - but sometimes it gets really old being told and retold not to have sex before marriage and to not look at porn.

But what was so frustrating is how guilty it made me feel. I am a pure as any star IWU student, but I still felt guilty. Maybe I should feel guilty about going to a boy's apartment alone. Maybe I should feel guilty about thinking Tom-Cruise-Hair (this kid on campus who has really, really, REALLY nice hair) is cute. Maybe I'm lusting.

Or the one that really started getting to me: maybe I should be mad at my parents for divorcing.

Uh, no. This is where I put my foot down.

I don't think this was the Summit speakers' intent, but on the Wednesday morning message about how divorce became socially acceptable in the 70s screwed us over, a part of me started getting upset. My parents have been divorced since I was six and I'm getting mad now?

I shouldn't be mad: I love my step-family. And my mom and stepdad model a healthy marriage for me. I don't think growing up with my mom and dad fighting all the time would teach me what a marriage is supposed to look like. Even if I saw their commitment as refreshing, the fighting would get old.

Not to mention there's also a pretty good chance I wouldn't be at IWU without going to Northeast Christian, which we started going to when my dad was dating Kelli.

So chapel speakers: I'm okay that my parents got a divorce. I'm sorry that you didn't get over your parents' divorce, but don't spark anger in me for no reason.

Can you see? It's guilt.

I skipped the last session of Summit on Wednesday night. This morning I asked Lindsey if they mentioned Grace at all. Nope. Six do-this, don't-do-this sermons and no mention of Grace.

So I guess it's up to me. ...

Guys, it's okay. Really, it's okay. We're humans. We make mistakes. God loves us now - even if we haven't overcome sexual sins (or otherwise). I know we hear how much this or that will screw our future marriages over, but know that nothing can screw up your relationship with God.

You're forgiven before you repent.

Can we please stop talking about how much wrong people are doing and (to use Miles's illustration from last spring semester) "turn on the lights of nobility"? You know: encourage. Show Grace.

Maybe there is a place to address sexual issues in a corporate setting, but why at Summit? Perhaps this goes back to my original frustration of God not catering to my big internship dilemma. Maybe Summit was really good for you. I guess I need to step out of the way and let you appreciate it - even if it drove me mad.

I just want us to focus on things that matter. I don't want to be known as the girl who cares more about keeping her purity than helping the poor.



With love and squalor,
Ezek.

Dear Sex,

A from-the-heart commentary.

February 2, 1998

Dear S-E-X,

I am scared to say your name. Teacher says it’s a bad word so I don’t want to get in trouble. I just figured out what you are today. You’re gross.

Mommy took me to see Titanic and I think Jack and pretty girl had S-E-X. They weren’t wearing clothes in that car. Mommy said that’s what you are. I think they looked cold. It was like a bazillion degrees cold in that car. There was an iceberg.

Mommy also said that people shouldn’t have S-E-X until they’re married. It’s bad when people like Jack and pretty girl have S-E-X before they’re married because that’s what Mommy says. And I think that’s where babies come from. Mommy said that babies come when a boy and a girl sleep together. Jack and pretty girl slept together. I bet they’re gonna have a baby.

At recess a boy asked me if I was a virgin. I said I didn’t know because I don’t know what a virgin is. I think a virgin is someone who doesn’t have S-E-X until they are married. I think I am a virgin. The boy at recess said that this brown haired girl isn’t one. I laughed because that’s funny. How can she be a virgin if she isn’t even married?

With love,

A virgin

(I think.)

June 12, 1999

Dear S-E-X,

My sister got pregnant and she isn’t even married. My stepdad got really mad at her and she has to move out and get married. There was a lot of crying at our house today. I cried too because everyone else cried. But I’m kind of excited. I really want a baby niece or nephew.

I figured out what a virgin is, and I am one. It means I haven’t had S-E-X. I haven’t. I’ve had a boyfriend though. We talked on the phone once. He sent me a watermelon eraser in the mail too. I haven’t talked to him since I started third grade though. I’m kind of shy.

My mommy asked me if I knew what gay meant. I think she said that it’s when a boy has S-E-X with another boy. I thought it meant that a boy acted really girly. Sissy said that there’s this boy on the bus that’s gay, but I don’t think he’s had S-E-X. He is only in the third grade! People don’t do it until they are like 19 or something. That’s how old my sister is. The one that’s pregnant, I mean. She’s 19.

With love,

A virgin

March 13, 2001

Dear Sex,

I can get pregnant now—I started my period.

In school we learned all about you. We even had to look at a diagram of a boy’s thingy. (You know what it’s called.) It was really gross. I wanted to close my eyes the whole time but I actually thought it was interesting.

We learned that we have these things called hormones that make us want to have you really bad. I don’t know if my hormones are working yet because I don’t really want to have you. If I did though, I’d tell you.

With love,

A virgin

November 19, 2002

Dear Sex,

You’re very romantic. My sister and I watch the show Friends all the time and Chandler and Monica make love a lot. But it’s okay because they get married I think.

I bet it would be really romantic to make love on my engagement night. I mean, I’d be getting married so it’d be okay if I did. My boyfriend would sprinkle rose petals from the doorway of my house all the way upstairs to my bedroom. Then he’d be there with a ring and I’d say, “Yes!”

I really hope the guy I marry is romantic like that. I’d probably have to drop him a few hints about the rose thing, but he’d catch on pretty fast.

With love,

A virgin

June 20, 2004

Dear Sex,

This boy I like asked me if I masturbate. I didn’t know what the word meant so I looked it up in the dictionary. No, I do not masturbate. I think he might though because he said it all dark and mysterious.

That same boy told me about this dream he had that he had sex with his girlfriend. He probably shouldn’t have told me that. I know his girlfriend and she’s really sweet and wouldn’t have sex when she’s still in junior high. But that boy told me he and his girlfriend had this thing called cybersex where they actually do it on the Internet. I don’t really know how that works, but I think *NSYNC sang a song about it once. Sounds kind of weird to me.

With love,

A virgin

July 31, 2004

Dear Sex,

I kissed a boy for the first time! Well, he kissed me. We were leaving a party and he kissed me on the cheek. It was really sweet.

We kissed mouth-to-mouth like three days later. We were riding home from a youth group trip and he decided that it was a good time to make a move. I kind of didn’t want to kiss him in the back of a van, but I couldn’t really stop him.

Don’t make fun of me, but I really didn’t enjoy kissing all that much. It’s kind of gross if you think about it—germs and all that. I won’t tell him that though. Well, I couldn’t tell him if I wanted to because we broke up.

Yeah, a week after we started kissing he broke up with me for my best friend. I was kind of mad, but not really too mad because I liked having the freedom to crush on other boys. Besides, as I said before, kissing was not that big of a deal.

With love,

A virgin

April 11, 2005

Dear Sex,

Today I decided to remain abstinent until I get married. I bought a purity ring to prove my commitment.

I think that sex needs to be special and between a husband and wife. That’s what my youth pastor says anyway, and all those books I’ve read. There’s this one author I read that said that you shouldn’t even kiss before you’re married! That’s a little crazy.

I started liking this guy who is three years older than me, but don’t tell anyone. I think that I’m going to marry him; he’s basically the hottest guy ever. He’s dated a lot of girls that are S-L-U-T-S. (Well, my sister calls them that. I don’t like to cuss.) I wonder if he likes me.

Anyway, it’s a lot of fun daydreaming about him. Don’t worry, I only think about clean things like holding hands and hugging. I would like to kiss him though, but not yet. I would want to wait like a month or two after we started dating. I think that’s a good amount of time.

With love,

A virgin

October 30, 2006

Dear Sex,

My boyfriend of three months broke up with me. I feel really dirty.

We didn’t even kiss and I feel dirty! I think that he liked to touch me too much. He didn’t like touch me in the wrong parts, but it still didn’t feel right.

With love,

A virgin

September 13, 2007

Dear Sex,

Two girls from one of my classes last year are pregnant. They’re juniors in high school! It’s hard to believe that someone younger than me is having sex before I am. Crazy.

I guess a lot of people have sex in high school, I just haven’t realized it until now. People are just lonely; they want some sort of fulfillment so they go to their boyfriends. Guys must love it. I mean, teenage girls are so naïve and desperate. Not me, though, or my friends.

I think Christianity’s the difference. I forgot to tell you that, Sex, I am a Christian. That’s why I want to wait to have you. I’ve still been told a dozen times that even Christians have sex outside of marriage, but I don’t believe them. If I were truly committed to Christ I would not have sex. Period. That just seems so obvious.

So like I said, those girls in high school who are having sex (and getting pregnant) are just lonely and void of something—Jesus. Someone should evangelize to them.

With love,

A virgin

December 2, 2007

Dear Sex,

I found out that one of my first boyfriends was caught having sex with his girlfriend—in their house! How sick is that? I am kind of not surprised, though, because he’s not really a Christian anymore. His sister (my friend) is mad at him and I doubt she’s going to talk to him any time soon.

I have friends at school who talk about having sex … or about doing it in the near future. It still seems so foreign to me. I guess I never believed that high school students did anything bad at all. Man, I remember when I first realized that my school has a drug problem. It was only a few months ago.

I think I’m ignorant to a lot of things, but I am okay with that. I’d rather stay the sweet pure Christian I’ve always been.

With love,

A virgin

June 8, 2008

Dear Sex,

My closest guy friend is a sex-addict. I wrote a whole essay about it once—about how I thought he was one even though he’s a virgin. But he really is a sex-addict. And he’s not a virgin.

He’s a Christian too, which is why he repented of it. He sat me down at a coffee house tonight and told me how he regretted it so much. He felt so empty inside and he wanted to get his life right again. I really admired him. Yeah, he messed up, but he’s ready to own up. I’m so proud of him. Even though he is a sex-addict.

With love,

A virgin

December 11, 2008

Dear Sex,

My closest guy friend never stopped having sex. I guess it’s one of those things that you start and never find the will to stop. He is an addict, I suppose.

I have decided to remain indifferent to it all because that will keep me from yelling at him. He no longer calls himself a Christian, so I guess it’s okay if he still has sex. It’s still a sin, but at least he’s not defaming the name of Christ. Does that sound cold-hearted? It seems that way to me. I should try to be nicer.

I found out that a lot of people I love and respect have been sleeping around, but I’m trying not to let it work me up. My sister tells me that my moral standards are different than a lot of people’s and I shouldn’t impose them. I am forced to agree.

With love,

A virgin

January 17, 2009

Dear Sex,

I guess Christians have pre-marital sex after all. Today I learned that two of my Christian friends slept together. They love Jesus but still have sex.

Sin is sin, no matter what. I tend to forget that. I find myself damning those who have sex outside of marriage or drink underage or do drugs more so than I damn myself for being proud or selfish or judgmental. There’s a plank in my eye that I have continuously ignored.

But I cannot help but view you, Sex, from my perspective. I cannot help but see you as something peculiar, something designed for a certain time and place. And when I see people from my school and my friends who have engaged in you, I don’t see what the media makes you out to be—I don’t see romance or fun or commitment or beauty. I see a lot of sad people searching for something. And instead of finding happiness, they’ve found the day-after blues: when he leaves to go to work or she grabs her clothes and drives away.

Sex, I don’t want to get to know you yet! I want you to remain a mystery until my wedding night. Then I will appreciate you, then I’ll get to experience that romance and fun and commitment and beauty. But not until then.

A lot of people throw you away. They waste you on people they will never truly love. They waste you on a night of passion or a night of loneliness. But that’s not fair. That’s not fair to you.

But don’t worry, Sex, I still think you’re special.

With love,

A virgin.

Don’t get worked up on the dates or people in this story. Bits and pieces I had to change for the fluency and understanding of the commentary. Just take it for what it is. Am I trying to be edgy? Not really. I’m just still learning about love and sex and pain and God and everything in between--and this is the result. In love, Lauren.