mid-January, it happened again. I knew that Chad had more than a little anxiety about our situation, but my feelings for him far outweighed my own doubts and caused me to dismiss the ones he described so elliptically. Some of his worries were of the more average kind: whether we would be attracted to one another in person, whether our age difference would prove insurmountable. But there were far more significant ones, too. Though it felt like years to me, I’d only lived outside of Westboro for two months at that point—certainly not enough time to have developed an entirely new worldview and identity. He didn’t know who I was becoming or what I believed, and neither did I. He also suspected that I might still be a member of the church, sent to try to lure him to Topeka. I’d heard that this was a tactic sometimes used by other fringe groups to boost membership, but it was so utterly unthinkable at Westboro that I laughed out loud at this scenario. At the time, I just couldn’t conceive that the weight of these anxieties was enough to justify all the hesitation and mixed signals.
MEGAN: I literally feel insane.
I had hoped you would come, but I thought this would happen.
In the future, you should be careful. Especially when you know you’re being misunderstood. You’ll save a heart (or hearts) a lot of pain.
CHAD: Seems a little dramatic and precious for a guy that was trying to get the nerve to ask her to dance.
It’s a common plot line, and the movie rarely ends with it.
I felt pathetic for trying to convince him, for wanting so badly something that he so clearly did not. Did I have so little self-respect that I couldn’t just take the hint? I decided to spend my final days in South Dakota with Daisy, Gatsby, and their doomed romance—a nod to our beginnings and apropos for our demise.
And still—still—I couldn’t let it go.
Jan. 11, 2013—Day 25
The Great Gatsby
Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope.
* * *
“You know … you guys don’t actually have to leave if you don’t want to.”
My knife froze mid-chop, and I stared up at Laura, who was busy transferring a loaf of homemade sourdough into a hot cast-iron pan. Dinnertime at the inn.
“Yeah,” Dustin agreed. “You can stay with us for as long as you need or as long as it’s helpful.”
Grace and I looked at each other with wide eyes. “Really?” she asked.
“Oh, my God!” I gasped, and we all laughed. The prospect overwhelmed me with gratitude. We were nearing the end of our time in Deadwood, and the thought of returning to Kansas filled me with dread. I loved my brother Josh and his family, and I wanted to spend time with Libby—but they lived at the epicenter of trauma. How could I leave this place and return to that? The inn was the first place I had felt safe, tucked in among the expanse of the Black Hills. The landscape was so muted and lovely, and it made me feel small in the very best way. It gave me hope. I knew that Grace didn’t feel the same way, that I’d have to work hard to convince her—but at least now there was a chance we could stay.
I wondered what the Floyds were thinking to offer such generosity to two girls they had only just met—but in that moment, I was afraid to ask for fear they might reconsider. Years later, as Dustin and Laura and I reminisced about the earliest days of our friendship, Laura would answer that question by sharing a few of her journal entries with me.
I so much want to help. I know Megan really loves it out here, and seems to be enjoying the time away. Grace is on less comfortable footing, I think. She doesn’t like the snow (it’s been doing that a lot), she’s homesick, and she seems to be—I actually don’t know how I was going to finish that sentence. I’ve been trying to draw her out with bribes of fresh-baked bread and access to all the local libraries. More than anything, I suspect the most useful thing I can do is be a friend.
We went out into the Hills for the Grand Tour yesterday and they started in with questions about what we believe. We talked about free will and hell and birth control and gay marriage and a dozen things in between. I am quite amazed about how