I'm A Hummer

When I was in college I had a roommate Nicole who used to make fun of me for humming all the time. I didn’t even know that I was a hummer until she pointed it out, and then I started to pay more attention and realized that she was right. I hummed ALL the time. She was also my roommate during the period when Cory and I were dating. He and I had been seeing each other for about eight months when he made it known that his feelings were pretty serious. Like, eternally serious. He sensed that I wasn’t ready so we continued to date and left the “m” word out of it. Halloween night of 1992 became a pivotal moment in our relationship. I spent all day feeling very strongly that I needed to break up with him – that night we spent the evening at separate events with friends and afterward he came to my apartment to see me. Everyone was already in bed and all the lights were off, so we went into the dark kitchen where we started to talk. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, and I told him that I needed to walk away from our relationship. He hugged me tight while our emotions bubbled over the surface and then he respected my wishes, let me go, and walked out the door.

A few days later Nicole nonchalantly weighed in and stated, “You’ve stopped humming.” She was a keen observer. For two weeks I zombied my way from class to class and moderately stalked what was now my former boyfriend. I’d stare out my window from the Humanities building and watch him walk by after my Spanish class, lamenting our former routine of walking that sidewalk together on those days. One afternoon I stood behind the freshman dorms which boasted a view of his campus employment just so I could see him exit the building at the end of his shift. I stopped eating. Just kidding. Who does that? Lots of people, I know. But I’ve never known a crisis that didn’t improve when garnished with a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Where was I? Oh yes, break up remorse. I was miserable without Cory in my daily routine. Two weeks later I had a big test to study for and decided that I needed the private confines of the library instead of the bustle of activity that was my apartment, so I gathered my books, shoved them into my bag and set out for campus. On my way out I saw the phone and I thought to myself, “Self, studying would be good and important and the main reason that your parents are paying thousands of dollars in tuition for you to be here. Also, I think I will call Cory.” I called, he answered, and I asked if I could come over. He said “yes”.

His roommate answered the door with a grin and confessed that he was glad I was back, and then I entered the kitchen where Cory stood. He was making guacamole, and when he saw me a smile spread across his face that made my insides calm down and he came over to put an arm around my waist and give me a sideways hug. I was instantly cured. We looked at each other and determined that perhaps a drive was in order. I navigated my “Beast” (as my suburban was affectionately called) to the base of the mountains in Provo where we talked for three hours. I mostly confessed that in addition to losing my ability to hum my way through life the act of breathing, sleeping and functioning at acceptable levels had become increasingly difficult since our breaking up. He said, “I made out with two other women while we were apart but it’s only because I missed you so much” “let’s give this another shot.” My lungs filled with air and exhaled fully for the first time in two weeks as my world became whole again. The next morning I resumed humming and bought donuts for my roommates for breakfast, and Nicole said she liked it when Cory and I got back together. Four months later he proposed to me at the Springville Art Museum and four months after that we were married in the San Diego Temple. That was fifteen years ago today, and I’ve never looked back.

Happy Anniversary Studly.