As I watched Scotty come down the escalator after being away from him for two long years, I felt numb. I didn’t want to see him because I didn’t want to hurt him. Scotty was greeted by an army of family and friends. I stood back and tried not to make eye contact. I don’t remember how we finally greeted each other. I imagine we shook hands – like missionaries do – and maybe I said, “Welcome back!” or something equally profound. When I left the airport, I went over to my friend Leelee’s house and told her all about the mixed emotions I felt.

 

I waited long enough for Scotty to be released before I went over to his house that night (missionaries have to continue living by the mission rules until they’ve been released with a blessing. That means no physical contact with members of the opposite sex, and they have to be with a ‘companion’ at all times). Scotty met me in the driveway and asked if he could hug me. I told him no because I knew everyone was watching us from the window (Scotty still holds this against me).

 

Later that night, I took him to my house to show him that my parents had redone the basement while he was gone. We found ourselves leaning against the back of the couch talking. I started nudging him with my elbow, and then I told him I was ready for that hug. Scotty’s embrace was foreign and memorable at the same time. I’d forgotten how tall he was, and how my head fit perfectly in the indentation below his shoulder. I decided I could put off breaking up with him for a little while.

 

As Scotty adjusted to being home, we’d often find ourselves in awkward situations. Scotty would move in to kiss me and then pull back. We were basically starting over again, and Scotty was experiencing the same nervousness that he felt before his mission. Finally, after three or four days, I got sick of the game, so I grabbed him and kissed him. Apparently Scotty had forgotten how to breathe and kiss at the same time because he nearly passed out.

 

I was starting to feel better about us, but I asked Scotty not to tell me that he loves me until the time was right. I didn’t want to express love until I knew for sure that I had fallen in to it.

 

Scotty and I carried on dating and getting to know each other again. I began praying to know whether or not I should continue spending time with him. One night, Scotty planned a special date for us. He took me to his cabin where we met up with another couple. We ate dinner, sat by the campfire, and walked down the river bank. After the sun had gone down, Scotty took me by the hand, and we walked down the road alone to a small pond. He sat down in the grass and pulled me down on to his lap. It was cold, and he wrapped his arms around me. We sat there together talking and looking at the moon’s reflection on the water.

 

That was when I felt it. That itty, bitty thing called love. And I knew that I would never break up with Scotty because I wanted to share forever with him.

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Scotty and me in love in California

 

It was that night when Scotty said he loved me, and I said it back, but this time it was different than when we’d said it before his mission. This time it was the kind of love that defined our future. The kind that wasn’t corrupted by the naivety of our youth. It was more real, and it had deeper meaning than it did before.

 

To be continued…