Welcome to a new project of mine — a blog I’m calling When I Was Mormon. I thought it’d be worth a quick breakdown, just so there’s no confusion as to what I’m setting out to do.
I knew only the groom. He knelt with her in white, green, and smiles. I observed their friends, shortened my breath. Their laughter, their familiarity and comfort, staked claim and crowded out. Looked upon, I grasped for why I was there.
I got it into my head: I could go to an Ivy League school if I wanted to. And maybe I did want to. Or to the Chicago Institute of Art, get a BFA in creative writing. But I imagined: I go for one semester, then I take off for 2 years. What would that look like?