Once upon a time,

My love story began.  I was eighteen.  I was very silly.  I was a freshman at BYU.  I SAID that dating wasn't important to me.  And then there was a boy.

Tall,
smiling,
laughing.

I remember being in the dorm common area, with all those boys I spent so much time with.  One was playing the piano.  One was sharing some gouda.  He--Matt, I mean-- was lounging on the floor, making us all feel like we were hilarious.

I really wish I could tell you how it proceeded.  I wish I could say "I knew right then that I was going to marry that boy", but I didn't.  All I know, is we continued to have nights like that, plus or minus a few of the other boys, and then minus more of them and more of them, until it was the two of us.

I had no idea he would become my husband.

First, he went home for the summer.  We called once or twice a week.

Then he came back for a few days. It was like no time had passed.

Then he came back again, the night before he went into the MTC.  It was awkward and made me miss him a lot.

And then he we wrote.  Not perfectly. But we wrote.  And that's when we really started to know each other.