BJ

I worked with a girl at Belk named BJ, which was short for Betty Jean. She was a sweet girl, but a little obsessive. When I moved to TX and told her that I had been in a movie with Kris Kristofferson, she got so excited. She loved Kris and was an obsessed fan. Working in the record store, I got a poster of Kris and sent it to her. She was on cloud nine. She later moved to Nashville to write for "Billboard", so she would be closer to Kris. At some point, she moved back to Columbia, and so did I. She fell in love with me, although I didn't feel I was with her. We went to see the movie "ET", and I must say I treated her badly, but she didn't mind. It went back and forth for a few years. She started working for DSS as a case worker. She invited me over to her apt. one night for dinner. She burned the salad. I'm not sure how you can burn salad, but she did. She wanted to get romantic that night, but I didn't. After all, I had seen her crazy side and didn't want to get involved with her, so I looked at my watch and told her I had to go. I got in my car and drove 30 miles to Sumter, just to clear my head. I had always had a problem with girls and expressing my feelings, and I just couldn't accept that someone truly cared about me. She was also a poet. It was a talent that I had developed in her. She wrote a book and gve me a copy. The first poem in the book was called "First Love", which she said was about me. Six months later, BJ killed herself. At the funeral, there were people who said they didn't know she had problems. One theory was tht she got to emotionally drained from being a case worker. She cared way too much about people and their problems. I couldn't help think it was my fault. At the funeral, the preacher read a few of her poems, and the first one he read was "First Love". He said that she wrote it, because she obviously cared deeply about someone. I could have crawled under the pew. A few weeks later, her mother brought a shoebox over to my house. It had letters and tapes from me to BJ that she had kept over the years. It has been over 10 years since BJ died. It took me a long time to work through my guilt, but I think I have. She had a lot of personal problems, not just me. But, as I have said in previous blog entries, always realize that you impact others' lives every day. It may not seem much to you, but it means the world to them. A smile. A wave. A kind word. I wish I could have done that to BJ.