A Minor Roadblock

A week after school resumed, Jeff took me out again for my birthday, this time just the two of us. We ate at a restaurant of my choice then drove up to Rock Canyon, the location of our first kiss. It was too cold in January to go visit the rock we had sat on before, but we parked in a spot with a nice view and enjoyed the heated car as we relived past moments and talked about the future.

We started playing a game where he would ask me a question, I would answer, then I would ask him a question and so on. At first the questions were trivial: What is your favorite food? Favorites place to visit? Favorite music group? It didn't take long for the questions to become more serious. I asked him why he loved me. He provided a list of reasons, then asked me the same question with a twist.

"Do you really love me or do you just say that because it seems like an appropriate response?" It should have been an easy answer, but I hesitated a bit too long and he sensed that. I knew that on some level of love, I did love him. I cared very much about him, I loved being with him, and I often contemplated marrying him. Surely that counted for something. But was I in love with him?

I tried to explain my internal conflict to him (in a less direct fashion), but as I spoke, I could see the hurt of my words reflected in his eyes. Once I had finished, I sat back in my seat, wondering if there was anything I could do or say to heal the wounds I had just created. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. He was the first to break the silence.

"I want you to know," he paused, taking time to choose his words carefully, "that I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He paused again. He was speaking very slowly and I knew that he was not saying these things lightly. "I think that, maybe, it is time for you to fast and pray and decide if you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Because if you don't, then I can't stand to fall more in love with you than I already am."

Immediately tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. I felt like I was going to vomit. Was he really going to set an ultimatum, just like that? It was now or never? I knew it wasn't fair, what I had been doing. I hadn't wanted to close any doors, so I had strung him along, toying with him mercilessly, all the while writing to my missionary as though he were the only man in my life. But if Jeff was suggesting marriage, well, I just couldn't commit to that.

I went home that night feeling like I'd been hit by a bus. I wondered how much longer I could drag out our relationship. A few weeks, maybe? Even that felt cruel. If I really, truly felt this didn't have any potential, then I should end it now. If I cared about Jeff at all, I owed him at least that much. I hoped a night's sleep would make me feel better, but I felt even worse the next morning. I moped around all day, wishing I could undo the last night's conversation. So much for a happy birthday. Around 5 pm my phone rang. It was Jeff, wondering if I had time to go to dinner with him. A few hours later we sat on the floor of his apartment. He began:

"I have to tell you, I've felt terrible all day for springing that on you last night."
"Really? I've felt just awful, too."
"I want you to know that I've been thinking, and I don't think either one of us is ready for marriage right now. I promise I will drop the subject right now and not bring it up again until we're both ready to talk about it."

I felt as though someone had lifted 100 lbs off my shoulders. I felt like singing, I was so relieved. We could go back to where we were before this whole thing had come up. All was well... until the next weekend.

A school holiday had created a 3-day weekend, so we decided to take an impromptu road trip to Vegas. The four boys from Jeff's apartment and I piled into an SUV and made the trek south. One afternoon while on our trip Jeff and I managed to break away for an hour or so. After we had been talking for a bit I could tell that he was going to kiss me. He came within inches of my face and whispered,

"I'm marrying you."

"W...what?" I stammered, thinking I must have heard him wrong.
"I'm marrying you," he said again. Then he started to kiss me. I pushed him away, confused and startled. Why was he bringing this up again? Didn't he remember the effect this topic had had last week? And why wasn't he responding to my shock? "What's wrong?" he asked, as nonchalantly as if he was asking what kind of drink I'd like to order. This is wierd, I thought.

"What did you say?" I demanded.
"I asked what was wrong."
"No, before that."
He thought for a moment. "Oh, I asked if I was hurting you."
"You did?"
"Yes, well I think that was the last thing I said."
"Was that all you said?"
"Yeah, what did you think I said?"

I let out a huge gust of air and started laughing. Jeff must have thought I had gone insane. It was several minutes before I could calm down enough to tell him what I thought he had said. A brief second of horror filled his eyes as he understood why I had been so terrified, then he, too, began to laugh.

"I said I wouldn't bring it up again until we were ready. You don't think a week has made that much of a difference, do you?" he asked, poking me playfully.

He wouldn't let the joke die the rest of the trip, but I didn't mind because it brought back a lightheartedness we had sorely been missing. I still wasn't sure about spending the rest of eternity with Jeff, but I sure wouldn't mind another semester.