it's a love story {part 8}

Last week, I promised part 8 would come out on Tuesday instead of its usual Wednesday because tomorrow is my birthday so I have something else planned for a post! So hopefully I can get that finished in time to post tomorrow, but in the mean time, here's part 8! Catch up on what you've missed with parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7.

Part Eight - Love

So there I was, with this dilemma about what to do and who to choose. But I kind of decided that I didn't have to choose yet. Russ now knew about my missionary, so if he wanted to call it quits, he was free to do so, but until then, I could date him and see what happened, while still writing to my missionary.

So for the moment, I didn't worry about it. I decided I'd cross that bridge when I got to it. And I kept dating Russ. And loving every moment I spent with him.

And I realized I was falling in love. 

Russ was so good to me. He cared about both my stress and my happiness. He listened to what I had to say. He made me think about things in ways that I didn't think about them before. He made me feel so loved and adored, and he made me want to love and adore him right back.

I wanted to say it early in January (2012), on a Sunday. Everything was perfect. We had just had this conversation where he explained to me how he felt about women, and consequently how he felt about me, as a woman. And it was so sweet . . . I really can't describe it. He was telling me about an article he had read that talked about the difference between hot girls and pretty girls. The article basically said that hot girls are a commodity to use up, while pretty girls are a combination of beauty and innocence, which makes you want to protect them and maintain that innocence. It was interesting because he had called me pretty so many times that week, and each time he did, I truly felt so protected . . . like he'd do anything to keep me safe. I thought for sure he was going to follow up this conversation by telling me he loved me, to which I would readily respond that I loved him, too. 

But he didn't, so I didn't.

I think it happened the next day. We were studying together, often stopping to talk or laugh or kiss. He kept asking me what I was thinking . . . and I'd blush, look away, and say, "Nothing. :)" I'm such a girl.

I really wanted him to say it first.

But I really, really wanted to say it. And he wasn't saying it, even though I could tell he wanted to. So finally, after one of those times that he asked me what I was thinking, I told him. I told him I loved him. 

And he said it back :) 

He was surprised that I said it first, but I just told him that I didn't want to wait around anymore :)

When talking about it later, he said there was no way he was going to say it first, when I had informed him just three weeks before that I "didn't know if anything could happen with us for eighteen more months." In hindsight, that makes complete sense.

So, it's true that I had wanted him to say it first, but I can at least be glad that he said it back :)

But the issue that I had chosen to not worry about before--the fact that I had a missionary--was still there. And now it was bigger than ever. I was in love with two different people, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it. 

I continued in my original direction of writing one and dating the other. But that path soon started to fail. It didn't fail because I felt bad about it (because I didn't--Russ knew about the missionary, and I had told the missionary before he ever left that I would be dating other people while he was gone); it failed for other reasons.

I finally had to make my choice when . . . 


Check back next Wednesday for the climax of the Love Story series! :)


**ashleynicole