We meet in the singles ward. You were new and I had been there about a month. You were looking for a new start and I was starting my new job. You were quiet but approachable and I thought you could use a group of friends to hang with. I still remember thinking as I gave you my number, "I hope he doesn't read to deeply into this." And of course you didn't.
We had been friends for about six months before you asked me out. Somehow I still felt a little nervous. Dating a friend who shared your same social circle can be dangerous. Still we had a good time. Talking was easy and natural and somehow the 45 minute drive didn't seem all that long either way. We went on another date not too long afterwards and I started to feel hopeful. Maybe we could really try this thing and maybe it would work. Maybe.
Then you stopped asking me out. You missed a few Saturday church socials and I saw less and less of you. I admit to feeling a little petty and slighted by your absence, but when common friends told me you were exploring other options I felt both vindicated and satisfied. We had made some effort but your interest was simply elsewhere. I began other pursuits of my own and we remained congenial friends. After a few months however you asked me out again. Your timing was horrid. I was making labored headway with my newest romantic attempt and having felt ignored by you once already I was reticent to let you get too close again. I was blunt. Possibly to blunt and likely much too honest as I told you I wasn't into you like that anymore, that I had been at one time but I had painstakingly talked myself out of it and was no longer there. I told you I may likely get there again but there were other players involved now and I gave you no promises. I'm still not sure what you made of all that but the date offers slowed down a bit. You went out of town and I found to my frustration that not only did I miss you but I was relieved to see you when you returned. Being the mature adult that I am I greeted you with stoic friendly aloofness to punish you for inconvenienceing me. Still you asked me on one more date and I was excited almost inspite of myself. We had a lovely time and again it all felt natural and easy but you were so maddeningly polite. Not a touch, not a hand-brush, not even a "do you want to do this again" at the door. And I was confused and frustrated. (Much like I'm sure you had been feeling for quite awhile.)
That night I called you. You didn't seem surprised or disappointed. We had the obligatory and slightly awkward DTR we decided to give it a go officially. Things went well. I was still a bit reluctant to commit and often threw in quips like"if we don't break up we should... " or "if we are still together then..." But somehow you put up with me.
And slowly, almost against my will I fell for you. Irredeemably. We dated for 6 months when I knew I had to decide if I wanted to keep you or let you go for forever. I was always more afraid of the permanence of being married than I was of you but that have you little comfort. I asked my grandpa for advice and a blessing and he taught me that I had been praying for the wrong thing. Instead of wanting to know if this was going to fail he said I should be asking if it was going to succeed. That changed everything for me. Very soon I knew you were exactly what I wanted and my hint dropping probably became obnoxious. A few weeks after that you asked me for forever and I gave you my future. Now we are an "us" for time and all eternity.
I can't promise you perfection. I can't even promise you magic. But I can promise you that I love you. That you are the best thing that has ever happened to me after being born into a gospel-centered family, and that I will do everything I can to give you back the amazing life you have given me. Let's go conquer the world together.
