Day 98: The Porch, Spring 2015

The host stood on the stage and read out a name. Not mine. An old classmate from English lit. I half-listened to her story (desire and fear a mess in my head and heart) as she half-read it from a journal.

And then the host stood again and looked at his clipboard, considering. He read out my name.

So I got up to the mic and told my story.

The one about me and Jo and Free Radio Provo — and how we stumbled upon Provo’s underground punk scene, which we knew we’d never fit into.

The one about me and my final year — and how somehow I lost that need to fit.

I wrapped up my story and looked out. I caught Jo’s smile — happy and sad and proud — and knew I was turning the last pages of a book, one I suddenly never wanted to put down.

(This is Day 98 of a 100-day project. For more about When I Was Mormon, read the introductory post. To access older posts, visit latest stories and scroll down.)