For me, the last day of my mission was not so amazing. The first day home, on the other hand, was unforgettable.

First, I was tired. I remember waking up and realizing that the sun was up and I was alone in my room - the same room where - years before - I had smoked dope, read Slaughterhouse Five, and begged Melody not to close her beautiful brown eyes while we explored each other's bodies so many times. I just wanted to surrender to sleep for the rest of the morning.

But my mind was alert. Were the last two years completely gone? Was I really back?

Second, I was cold. I had been in Hawaii for two years. It was now January in Utah, and my father never heated the basement. I loved the feeling of my heart racing to keep me warm.

The house was empty. I was completely alone. I immediately let the dogs in because I was so uncomfortable being alone. They scampered behind me, as I rediscovered my parents' house.

I noticed a girl I had dated before had recorded two messages on the machine. She sounded very excited to see me. I was terrified of her. I knew that, if we were alone together, I would be powerless to keep myself from touching her, kissing her, trying to be with her. My stake president was supposed to release me later that day. Until then, I wasn't sure what rules were being violated. But I was alone, so I guess that was already a non-factor.

I had always been proud of myself for controlling my physical desires. I had given in plenty of times, but I had remained solid so many times, and passed up so many opportunities to "fall" - even as a missionary. Hell, especially as a missionary.

Today, I felt completely overwhelmed by my appetite. Two years with absolutely nothing had left me strained in ways I still can't comprehend. And now I was alone in my house, and a girl I'd always liked was calling me.

I put on music. Selecting that first disk was fun. I let the drums and the bass wash over me. How did I ever live without this?

I put on jeans. I put on a shirt with lots of color and no collar. What a trip. How did I ever wear that uniform?

And I called her. She was giddy. She wanted to rush right over.

She brought me a card, blue corn chips, and homemade salsa. She gave me a hug. She smelled so good, and her smile made me woozy. I wanted to give her everything I had right then and there.

I told her we should go get some food. I knew I could not be alone with her in the house.

As we drove, she updated me on her life. I was alone in a car with a girl I wanted so bad. I began to panic. I realized I had no idea what I wanted out of life. Some of the things I had been taught were still driving me. What were my goals? Why hadn't I read my scriptures that morning? Where was my companion? How many of the people around me knew nothing about the power of Christ?

I cracked a window.

She started telling me about other guys I knew she had dated. They were all away - for missions, college, or otherwise. Basically, she was telling me I had nothing in my way.

As we ate, I began to recognize that I was not ready to make one single decision. I was so confused. I asked her to take me home, told her I needed to unpack, and maybe we could go skiing the next day - or later that week.

When I got home, I didn't take off my coat. I threw myself on the bed and sobbed like a child.

I don't remember a thing about being released.

...seeing our little dog and cat again, and standing in our backyard in the foothills of Mt. Ben Lomand in North Ogden, Utah, looking down over the Salt Lake Valley and the City of Ogden in the valley below, finding it hard to believe that my mission was finally over, and feeling like the New England Mission area was far away in another world that would never exist for me again.

My mission left me deeply skeptical over the claims of the LDS Church, but I knew I was heading back to BYU, an experience I truly enjoyed, where I knew I would shortly be dating girls again and finding a wife. I could hardly wait, and managed to put my theological doubts behind me.

After graduating from BYU (and finding my wife there), and marrying in the temple, going on to law school, serving in numerous Bishoprics and Stake High Councils, my religious views slowly but surely changed forever. My wife (also an active member and BYU graduate) considered my views and ended up agreeing with me. We resigned our memberships together, several years back, and have never regretted it.

The first day back from my mission, and the first day after I resigned my LDS membership, were the same in this one particular: On each occassion, I had never felt freer in my life.

Anon. Wrote:
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> ...seeing our little dog and cat again, and
> standing in our backyard in the foothills of Mt.
> Ben Lomand in North Ogden, Utah, looking down over

You realized, of course, that you called it "Mount Mount Lomand," yes? See, Ben Lomond in Scotland is "Mount Lomond" in America. (hehe)

I came home in early December. My first morning home I put on normal clothes and walked over to the Cottonwood Mall. On the way there I was stunned at how beautiful Mount Olympus looked with snow on it and the bright blue sky behind. I remember tearing up because I was just so glad to be home and done with the mission.

As I walked through the mall I was surprised that it was that busy on a weekday in the middle of the day. I should have realized that this was the middle of the Christmas shopping season. As busy as it was, I felt invisible. I was alone and wearing normal clothes. I didn't stand out like I always did in a white shirt and tie standing next to another dork in a matching outfit. I was invisible! People didn't try to avoid me or look at me with disdain. People walked right past me and didn't feel the need to say something nasty to me or give me dirty looks. I liked being invisible.

Eventually I ran into a kid I knew in high school. He promptly informed me that it was my duty to have a talk with my younger brother who was obviously on the wrong path. I remember thinking: "Why is this any of your business?" and then made an excuse to leave him behind. My little brother could take care of himself as far as I was concerned.

There was a girl I needed to deal with as well. The girl who waited for me even though I didn't want her to. I told her not to. I told her sister and her folks that I didn't expect her to wait for me. None of that did any good. I got letters every week and regular packages while I was in Portugal. The mission sucked, I loved the stuff they sent so I wrote back.

When I finally had the courage to go see her a day or two later we spent an hour or so making out all over her basement floor. Oh God! I loved it! Then the guilt nearly killed me. I was convinced that this kind of thing wasn't good for me so I cut it off. I never went back for more. It was a stupid thing to do. She was a wonderful girl and I'm ashamed that I let the "lock your heart" bullshit screw up that relationship. I guess it was a good thing in the long run. As horny as I was we would have been married in four months and I was so screwed up in my thinking that it would have been a disaster to marry that soon.

Twenty five years have past since then and I think the mission experience is still screwing with my head.

Stunted

Duder Wrote:
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>>
> And I called her. She was giddy. She wanted to
> rush right over.
>
> She brought me a card, blue corn chips, and
> homemade salsa. She gave me a hug. She smelled
> so good, and her smile made me woozy. I wanted to
> give her everything I had right then and there.
>
> I told her we should go get some food. I knew I
> could not be alone with her in the house.
>
> As we drove, she updated me on her life. I was
> alone in a car with a girl I wanted so bad. I
> began to panic. I realized I had no idea what I
> wanted out of life. Some of the things I had been
> taught were still driving me. What were my goals?
> Why hadn't I read my scriptures that morning?
> Where was my companion? How many of the people
> around me knew nothing about the power of Christ?
>
> I cracked a window.
>
> She started telling me about other guys I knew she
> had dated. They were all away - for missions,
> college, or otherwise. Basically, she was telling
> me I had nothing in my way.
>
> As we ate, I began to recognize that I was not
> ready to make one single decision. I was so
> confused. I asked her to take me home,

Alright Duder, I know you were just telling a true story(rather well I think) but this setup was starting to feel like the begining of a Penthouse "Forum" letter. I expect a new draft of how you WISHED it had ended, complete with her amputatee girlfriend joining in, on my desk by 5:00pm. *note, it has to end with "....and then we did it all again!"

jon1 Wrote:
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> this setup was
> starting to feel like the begining of a Penthouse
> "Forum" letter.

Right on. That was the gist of the story. Any healthy 22 year old man would have done exactly what I wanted to do: thoroughly enjoy the company of that beautiful, thoughtful, engaging girl. Instead, I was so blinded by guilt, fear and pressure that I couldn't close the easiest, most promising deal of my life - (well, one of them, anyway).

Alas, I don't even remember getting "released."

I don't live with a lot of regret, but one of the first trips I'll be taking in the time machine will be to that day. We're talking even before I kill Hitler.

I've read this and the last day of the mission. I was so brainwashed that both days didn't mean as much as when I left the cult.

Thirteen years AFTER my mission....hell, that's another story! It was like getting out of Nazi Germany on a train. Like going over the Berlin Wall in a balloon!

I went on a freedom binge than continues to this day!

The very day I got released, I called a girl that I'd been writing to during my entire mission. We'd only dated once, right before I left for my mission. We went to the hills above Stanford, looked out over the city lights of Palo Alto, and made out. It was cold outside that October evening, but I don't think either one of us cared.