So there I was, minding my own business . . .
Literally. I was in my apartment at BYU, doing homework in my living room. I heard the voices of a couple guys and girl come in the door. They were looking for my room-mate Chisoma. I heard Stephanie (my other roomie) explain that Chiz wasn’t home. Apparently they weren’t deterred.
Next thing I know, Wyatt comes in, sits himself down on my couch, and tries to strike up a conversation.*
But I wasn’t down.
I was on an anti-boy strike that semester, which meant simply that I accepted dates, but I didn’t go on second dates, and I definitely did not flirt.
So I sat on my floor, homework spread out before me, and gave one word answers waiting for this guy to go away.
But Wyatt was on one that day, and didn’t let it go. He kept talking and talking and asking inconsequential questions, and making inconsequential remarks.
Until finally he made a comment about his “time at BYU Jerusalem.”
And that was it. I finally looked up at him, gave him my best smile, climbed up on the other couch, and asked him to tell me all about BYU Jeru. I had just finished my application for the fall program you see, and was thoroughly interested in all the adventures there were to be had!
And we talked for about two hours about Jerusalem, and Russia, and the Indian Reservation, and South America and all the other adventures we had both had in our college years.
Until he had to go to class.
But he came back as soon as his afternoon classes were over, and we talked for maybe another hour, before he had to go again (I think to play basketball with his buddies).
And that was ten years ago today.
Now . . . do you want to hear more of our dating story?
The next night he showed up – I had just gotten out of the shower, and I remember standing there in sweats with dripping hair and no make-up. He invited me down to a barbeque he and his buddies were having in the courtyard of our apartment complex (turns out Wyatt lived just three doors down from me, but was in a different ward, so I didn’t know who he was).
And we played.
And we played every day in a very platonic way until one day, maybe a week or ten days later a really fabulous Spring thunder storm had rolled in. We had already hung out that day, and said our goodbyes promising more fun tomorrow. But then, a spring storm – really?
So at midnight I knocked on his door. His room-mate answered and went to get Wyatt, who was already in bed. He came to the door in his jammies (so cute). I said “The way I figure it, we can either be responsible and go to bed so we can get up for class in the morning, or we can go have fun now.”
And Wyatt said “Let me go get my shoes.”**
So we went up to campus – the only place not closed and locked up for the night. We ran all over campus, playing in the rain. And then under a big pine tree, where some branches had broken off making a little hollow, he kissed me for the first time.
Oooh, romantic, right?
Not!
Well, okay, it was romantic, but it was also lame, because Wyatt had a bet going with his buddies that he wouldn’t kiss a girl the whole semester, and Jimmy and Kris would each kiss one.
Apparently Wyatt had quite the reputation.
So I was trying to not let him kiss me – I didn’t want to be another mark on the belt, so to speak.
But he got me. Mmmmm.
And then he refused to tell anyone! And he told me not to tell (grrr.)
Dave, Me & Wyatt, ready for Bon Jovi
And we didn’t tell anyone for another ten days or so. Until finally it was the last night of the semester, and there was a big party up on campus. We all went up (me, Wyatt, and all his buddies). Since it was the last night of the semester, the guys were talking about this big bet they had going all semester. I bet Eks to see who could kiss the most people that night. I was going to get Wyatt to cave if it killed me! The first thing I did was kiss Kris. I still giggle when I think about that because it could very well have been Kris’s first kiss EVER. But whatever. Then Wyatt was seriously annoyed.
And so after the party we went back to Wyatt’s apartment, and I kissed him, just as Eks came walking up. And he said “oh, were you guys kissing?” -Seriously surprised. And I just said, “Um, yeah!”
And that’s how that came out.
Eks, Wyatt, Me & Dave at the Bon Jovi concert
And then the semester ended. Wyatt was supposed to go out right away for a summer sales job. I was staying in Provo for the summer, going to school. I convinced Wyatt to stay one spring term, before he headed out. He finally agreed.
But his other buddies had to go to their summer jobs, including Eks and Dave, who were both heading to Denver for the summer. I remember it was a Sunday night, and we were sitting in my apartment at ten o’clock at night. We knew Dave and Eks were going to Denver. “You know, Bon Jovi is playing in Denver this week” Wyatt said to me.
A half hour later the four of us were on the road, driving to Denver. We went to Bon Jovi, dropped Dave and Eks off at their locations and headed home from our impromptu road trip. And that is how I was introduced to Butt Rock and the music of Bon Jovi.
We had other adventures that summer, some the stuff of legends, but mostly we just hung out at the pool, and walked two or three times a day to the Crest gas station for popsicles.
Finally it was time for Wyatt to go. He was heading to Phoenix where he and a couple of his buddies were going to try their hand at business and start their own pest control business. He drove off on his motorcycle while I stood at the Crest gas station and watched him go.
But he came back. Every week or ten days he drove ten hours north to see his hot girlfriend (me).
I think it was his first time back to Utah that we went up to my grandpa’s cabin. It was fourth of July weekend, and festivities were in full force. Barbequed burgers and potato salad and hikes and playing in the river. At one point we went on a walk by ourselves down the creek, looking at all the old (old) miners cabins along the way. We sat down on a log and started outlining what we would want in our cabin someday. How big, where, where the fireman’s pole should be, etc.
And the we decided if we were going to talk about owning real estate together, we should also talk about getting married.
And it was all down hill from there.
Wyatt proposed on the 27th of July, and were married on the last day of summer, a week shy of six months from knowing each other.
And now, here we are, ten years, eight countries, five rodeos, three and a half kids, two and a half dogs, two houses, two four wheelers, one cabin lot, and a big dream later. We’re still working on “getting there.” I think we both thought we’d have “arrived” by now. Some days are stressful. Some days are loud. Some days are boring. Some days are stinky. Some days are fun. Some days are exciting. Some days we can feel ourselves getting closer, to our goals and each other. And some days are the stuff of legends.
Happy March 28th!
*The other guy and girl who came into my apartment that day? Eks, and Julie.
**Wyatt now says that I was “false advertising” when we were dating, because I would stay up so late (two or three in the morning barely phased me), and now it’s all I can do to stay awake for the evening news.
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