In honor of our second anniversary, I wanted to do what every
basic white girl uses a blog for--telling the story of how she and her
significant other met and fell in love. (If a blog is not a vehicle for posting
an obscene amount of wedding photos, what else is it for?)
But I know that I,
for one, really do enjoy hearing about how people met and fell in love, if
nothing else because I find it beautiful that everyone's story is different. I
like hearing how people found each other, and how they chose each other. So if you like those stories, too, then I hope you'll indulge me.
As for Sam and me, we technically met as freshmen in college in
2009. We were in the same freshman ward at BYU (which, for non-Latter-day Saint
readers, means that, based on where we lived, our freshman dorms were grouped
together in church congregation based on geography). We attended the same
church meetings, probably went to a lot of the same church activities, and had
mutual friends in the ward. But neither of us recall meeting the other. Sam
claims he remembers my last name (which, to be fair, since it is an unusual
name, he probably did), and maybe we said hello to each and exchanged
pleasantries at an ice cream social. But we didn't know each other. And we
probably wouldn't have been interested in each other at that time in our lives.
If anything, our story is about second (and third) chances.
We didn't meet each other again until 2015, right after we had
just graduated from BYU. A mutual friend of ours (who would end up being our
mutual sister-in-law, as she was dating and would soon marry Sam's brother)
approached both of us separately and offered to introduce us to each other. She
knew we would both be going to England for master's degrees (I was off to Oxford,
and Sam was going up to Cambridge), and she thought we would get along well, personality- and interests-wise. She was also very vocal in her intent that
both of us would hopefully start dating--both of us recall her saying to us
that she wanted me for a sister-in-law (and so, I apologize, Bronwen, that I am
probably not the sister-in-law you were hoping for! I'm much less shiny in real
life).
I was open to meeting new people, but I was also skeptical. It
turns out Sam was feeling the same way. We were both in weird limbo
states--both healing from heartbreaks, both eager for new beginnings in
England, but neither really open to starting a new relationship. Regardless, we
got into contact with each other, made plans to meet for lunch at a Korean
bibimbap place in Provo, and to actually make each other's acquaintance.
Neither of us considered that lunch a date. We ordered separately
(and Sam judged me for ordering a level-2 spiciness--out of ten--for my
bibimbap while he ordered a level-7), sat awkwardly across the table from each
other, and exchanged typical Provo get-to-know-you questions: What was your
major? Did you know so-and-so? Where did you serve your mission? (I judged Sam
for his answer to that one when I found out he had served in Latin America--as
a person who served in Eastern Europe, I figured that no other missionaries had
it as tough as we did.) We talked about how we were both excited to go to
England for grad school, and what we thought we might research for our
dissertations.
That was it. No spark, no promises of seeing each other again.
Just a mutual sizing up of each other, and general well-wishes for the move to
England. Maybe we'd run into each other in Oxford, Cambridge, or London at
Latter-day Saint Young Single Adult conventions, or maybe not.
But we had broken the ice. And so when we did see each other again
in England--in London for a conference, or when Sam was in Oxford for research,
we saw each other occasionally, and got to know each other a bit better.
[this is our first picture together. sam was in oxford for a research trip and wanted to see friends while he was there. pc: briana bowen.]
In June 2016, towards the end of both of our master's degrees, I
took a day trip to Cambridge from Oxford with some other BYU alumni. Three out of the four of
us who went on this trip had participated in the Cambridge Pembroke-Kings
Programme as undergrads, and had each studied at Cambridge over a summer term.
I had studied abroad at Cambridge the summer after my freshman year, and the
experience was transformative and magical for me (and, I would say, for all of
us). I often talked about how it was love-at-first-sight when it came to Cambridge, and even though I deeply loved my time at Oxford, my freshman summer at Cambridge will always be special to me.
A new crop of BYU students was arriving for this annual program, and the
professor who directed the BYU students wanted us to come to Cambridge to
welcome them and encourage them. He offered to drive four of us to Cambridge,
and I was excited to return to a place which meant so much to me.
It was Sunday, and we arrived at Cambridge a few minutes before the Latter-day
Saint sacrament meeting was about to start. Sam was there, and he and another
former BYU student-turned-Cambridge-master's student named Madeleine excitedly
greeted us. They had not expected us, and they were excited to see old friends
and eager to spend time with us and show us around.
After church, Sam joined me and the rest of the Oxford crowd in
the church's kitchen, where we prepared sandwiches with meats, cheeses, and
vegetables we had brought along with us. I don't know what it was about that
afternoon--maybe it was the surprise of seeing old friends and acquaintances,
maybe it was the prospect of showing Cambridge in the magic of late June, or
maybe it was my blue dress, but as Sam talked animatedly to me, I could tell
that something had shifted in his interest levels towards me--he talked to me
more, and he sought out ways to be near me. I also found myself disappointed to
hear that he already had other plans for the day--he was going to listen to the
King's Singers on the River--but he promised to try to find us all tickets so
we could also listen on the lawn.
[on that fateful june day in front of king's college chapel. what a magical place.]
Sam's interest in me was not lost on the others of the group. As
soon as Sam left, my friends started teasing me relentlessly. Later, on our way
to meet up again with Sam and Madeleine, one of my friends said that if there
were no more tickets for the King's Singers, we had to "convince Sam that
he couldn't give up his tickets because of us," and they delegated the
responsibility of telling Sam to me, "since he's going to listen to you
more." When we did meet Sam and Madeleine at Newton's Bridge at Queens'
College, Sam told us that in fact, there were no more tickets, "but it's
fine, because I don't want to go anymore." Instead, he volunteered to show
us around Queens'. My friend elbowed me and mimicked, "He didn't want
to go anymore," and I hurriedly shushed him, afraid that Sam would
notice and be embarrassed.
Sam didn't notice. He was too happy to be showing us around his
college. Later, we would all revel in our luck that even though we couldn't get
tickets to listen to the King's Singers on the lawn, we could still listen on
the bridge, and I listened to their songs, with Sam at my side, marveling that Cambridge was working
its charm on me again.
Right before the Oxford group left--after an evening talking with
BYU students--Sam found me again and said that he had wished we had more time
to talk and get to know each other, and said that if we were both in Utah over
the summer, he would love to get together. I agreed. I later found out
that a couple of days after that evening in Cambridge, Madeleine would suggest
to Sam that he should ask me out.
[To be continued in Part 2]
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