Emo

I hate to admit it but I think I'm Emo. It's too bad it's the cool thing to do.

I almost have the look down. The only thing that's keeping me from the look is my unwillingness to do anything drastic to my hair.

Truth

I have no grand story to tell.

I want you to know: communication is key to a successful relationship. Sitting down to a meal after a long night at work will help patch wounds and maybe even cracked ribs.

This isn't my bit but I'm going to use it. I wish I had theme music. When something bad is about to happen to me I want the music to get scary. When I'm happy I want the music swell in beautiful scales. Then there wouldn't be a question about what kidn of mood I was in. Then I could avoid questions.

How do you like them apples?

This was no accident, this was a therepudic chain of events.

I have deal breakers. Standards. I will NOT yield.

He told me to ask him any question I wanted. I could take my time and ask him anything. My question last night was exactly this: Are you willing to abide by Church chastity standards so you can fully repent?

It kept him awake all night. He was dreading our lunch today.

After 19 hours of deliberation he told me at the present time he couldn't abide by Church chastity standards.

He told me the Book of Mormon was written by people who didn't know him and what he was going through.

I walked away. Problem is I ripped my own heart out.

As quickly as something good is given to you it can be taken away. I will always love him.

Ether 12:27

It was an accident, I swear, it was an accident.

Preface: I knew it was going to be an Army guy. How did I know? About two weeks after I got to Afghanistan I replied to a friend's email. He was letting me know he was going to South America on the mission. I typed to Elder Lindsay, "My situation is different. You are going to preach the good word. I'm in the Army. When I come home it's going to be to a broken lease, an impounded car and friends that just don't understand."

He was in the Army for six years. He's highly trained by the government. He's been all around the world for the Army. Two years of civilian life is killing him.

Then he met me.

I've known him for six/eight weeks. We hit it off right from the start. Speaking Army to eachother. It's like speaking a foreign language. Nobody really understands it. When I find anybody that understands why I have a mild case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder from making coffee for a year I'm going to hold on to them. We've told war stories and joked about Army standards. I was ending roughtly 90% of my stories with, "You and like two other people in the world know that about me." He could honestly say the same.

We've spent a lot of time discussing the Atonement and the always eternal love of Heavenly Father. As a recent convert I can fully bear testimony of the truthfulness of this. I've explained to him light, knowledge and intelligence cannot be taken away. We were born with all that we are going to die with. It's one of those eternal things.

In passing he has told me he loves me. I punch his shoulder and he says, "I'm so in love with you." I stand on a bucket at work to tighten some bolts and he says, "I'm so in love with you." I think he got sick of it. My male-oriented female mind can't take hints. Tuesday night he grabbed my face and said, "I love you."

I honestly didn't know what to do.

Me? He loves me? Why?

With trepidation I internalized it. It took me two days to sort it out. I know him better than I thought I did. He knows more about me than I know about myself. After getting opinions from many trusted people I took the advice of one,"Allison, you're on the right path. Heavenly Father is blessing you because of the great and wonderful choices you've made. I don't see why you shouldn't pursue this as a relationship."

I'm on the verge of something I'm hoping to be wonderful.

I said "I love you." It was barely a whisper the first time. I even cried.

I went into the freezing cold darkness that is this uncharted tundra of somewhere I've never been. Love.