Finding My Eve (Part 1)

Mission. The first 19 years of my life, I was told to prepare for one of those. Stay worthy. Save money. Study my scriptures. Pray daily. On my mission, I was told to serve faithfully and return honorably. However, after I returned home from my two-year mission in Hong Kong, I realized I had never really been told what to do with the rest of my life. Go to college? Of course. Get a job? A good one. Get married? All in due time. At least that is what I thought. That was my first mistake.
Before I even left Hong Kong, my mission president and his wife had "the chat" with all of us departing missionaries about dating and looking for that special someone. "Do sister missionaries even date?" I kept the thought to myself.
"Two years of completely staying away from the opposite gender, and just like that I am supposed to go home and find my Eve?! No thanks." Once again, I kept the thought to myself.
On the plane ride home, an girl from Minnesota started talking to me. My ears turned red and my throat became dry.
My first Sunday back in my home ward, when presented with a hug by a pretty college girl, a firm handshake was offered rather than outstretched arms.
I had zero interest to talk to or even associate with girls the whole summer. At times, I was made to feel as though I was abandoning my priesthood responsibility, but I kept telling myself "I would be ready to date once I got back out to Provo." Provo came all too fast.
I lived at Liberty Square. Fresh-off-the-mission RMs. Sophomore girls. It was supposed to be heaven. For me...? It wasn't. I was feeling a lot of pressure to date, but
1. I wasn't really interested in any girls and
2. I had never really asked a girl out before.
Sure, I had a high school girlfriend, but we were already "going out" before we ever went out on a date. Freshman year, I successfully followed my dad's advice and didn't get involved with any girls. I didn't know how to ask a girl out. I didn't even want to. But I knew I should. After spending the first two weekends back at school hanging out with old friends and mission buddies...my quest began suddenly.
My first week of New Testament class, I had noticed there were a lot of girls in my class. Some of them were kind of cute, but none of them really stood out to me. I had even attempted to talk to a girl sitting next to me and had completely struck out. Find my Eve? If I am striking out in New Testament where the Spirit is strong and where my faults are more likely to be overlooked with the loving eyes of eternal perspective? I decided I would need more time.
During the second week of school, I was seated by myself before class started, minding my own business, when the bell rang. I saw out of the corner of my eye, two, tall blondes walking towards the empty seats next to me. "Oh no," I thought to myself. When the blonde sat down next to me, I was so nervous and awkward, I successfully avoided eye contact and therefore any need for forced conversation. Off the hook, for now at least. The class started and our teacher asked us to get out our Book of Mormons, or some might argue our Books of Mormon. I noticed the girl next to me had only brought her Bible, assuming a single King James Version would suffice. "Oh no," I thought to myself. I knew I should be friendly and offer to share my scriptures, but I was scared. Then, as if my body was not under my own control, a friendly smile was offered along with my Book of Mormon opened to the correct page. She smiled back and thanked me for sharing with her. Wow. I didn't know if I had made contact, but I knew that I at least hadn't taken strike one. Our teacher taught from the Book of Mormon for the majority of the class period, all the while little comments and conversation were exchanged between this blonde and me. I noticed she was pretty.
As the bell rang to signify the conclusion of an invigorating scriptural discussion, I was taking my time to gather up my books and things, and I could tell that the pretty blonde (whose name I now knew) was lingering behind everyone else...almost like she was waiting on me. "Interesting," I thought, but it still hadn't hit me yet. As we exited the building, we were walking and chatting and I was actually beginning to feel comfortable. Comfortable talking to a girl?! A certain breakthrough. Then it hit me. I was supposed to ask her out!
"How?!"
"To do what?!"
"When?!"
The answers weren't coming fast enough. I started to sweat and my throat became dry. Breathing became unusually difficult, and my heart felt as if I was in the middle of running a marathon. The time came.
Her next class was to the left. My next destination to the right. We slowed down to a complete stop, where we turned and faced each other. I looked at her, and it seemed almost as though she was waiting for something. I knew what it was.
I couldn't do it. Not this time. I would see her again. No need to rush things. We just met. It is good to be friends first.
I didn't realize what I was saying until it was too late. My mouth opened as if "independent from my body" (name that TV show) and I said, "Well hey, our flag football team has our first game this Friday, and, uh, I would love for you come." She smiled. Her eyes sparkled. I think a gust of wind came and brushed her hair to the side. She looked beautiful. There was no wind. And then the response, "Yeah, I would love to." I knew it. I realized my hands were shaking as I pulled out my cell phone. My hands were sweaty. "Is there any air in Utah?" I successfully got her number and assured her I would call her the next day. She walked away smiling, and I couldn't help a large grin.
I had done it! I had asked a girl out! I was fulfilling my priesthood responsibility! I had a date for Friday night! Oh, I was such an innocent, naive RM. I hadn't realized one crucial fact. I had gotten her number. I was was going to have to call her. "Oh no." I wasn't ready for this.