Now Common-Place Treasures

by The Merna

I keep starting to write about this but can never quite figure out the best way to put it into words. I think part of the difficulty may be because, it’s real. It’s not a fantasized story that I can make as idyllic as I want, or as perfectly-played as I want.

It’s just solid, and substantial, and very, very real.

I met some boy. I met him at stake conference and he impressed me. Also, he was really handsome. Yup. As we were leaving I had the clear thought that if I didn’t turn around and go back inside to talk with him more, it would be a mistake. So I did it.

As a note, I feel I should tell you upfront, this story is not dramatic. It is not heart-wrenching and there is no serious climax to anticipate. But, it’s a true story. So…what’s better?

I’m not married to this boy. I’m not engaged to him. But he couldn’t wait three days to ask me on a second date. He told his roommate “Why would I wait? That would be a waste.” He took me to do something he was not so great at. Why? Because I love it. I remember getting home from that date thinking he probably didn’t have fun and wouldn’t ask me out again. I thought, “I know I should let him pursue, but I’m going to invite him to institute this week just so I can see him again.” The morning of institute I was biding my time and using my patience to think of just the right thing to text him. I picked up my phone to invite him, and there it was. A message from him. He beat me to the punch, and he has been doing it since.

I never wonder if he likes me. I never wonder how much. I don’t wonder if he loves me. I knew it long before it was expressed. I knew because of how he treats me. He thinks HE’S  lucky… ironic.

This boy with green eyes that look blue when he wears it. With dark hair and lips that turn up on the sides even when he’s serious. I sit here and I look at him holding my hand tightly in his, and I think about how just a few months ago I was spending my weekends on endless first dates and at the same-old parties.

Four months ago there were no flowers on my table. I had no teammate at family game nights. There were only two sets of grandparents who knew my name and hugged me. There were no little sisters to Skype over holidays. Four months ago I didn’t end the night with a smile because I could still smell cologne on my shirt from a goodnight hug. Four months ago I drove everywhere with two hands on the wheel.

I knew I liked him while sitting across from him at a little cafe in the middle of winter, drinking hot chocolate. His eyes had color and shine. I knew I liked him when I saw him talking with his Grandpa and his Uncle who has Down Syndrome. I knew I liked him when he placed his hand kindly on my back as we crossed a busy street on the first date. I knew I liked him when he asked me on a second, a third, a fourth and a fifth date within the first two weeks of knowing me. I knew I liked him when I saw him bite his lower lip while we played ping pong and he tried not to laugh at how easily he could return my fastest serves. I knew I liked him when he asked me after only two weeks “Do you consider us exclusive? Because I do.” I knew I liked him when, after only two months he told me “I love you” and I knew it was true. I knew I liked him when I finally said it back and asked him if it had worried or bothered him that I hadn’t said it as fast, and his response was “No, I was just waiting for you.”

There is no feeling of desperate longing or worry over the “what-if,” because… I’m not worried about anything. I have no doubt of exactly what he thinks or how he feels. He is good. He wants good things, and he is loving. I knew I liked him when I heard him talk about the 6 kids he wants, and the missions he wants to serve with his wife. I knew I liked him when I heard him talk about the future and I know I like him when every night I open my front door and he smiles at me.

Four months ago, I was very blessed. But today, my daily life is full of treasures. Real treasures that won’t lose  their value or shine. I must not forget to dust them, to hold them up to the light to appreciate their true beauty.