To my surprise and delight, I had a Facebook message from Steve by the time my plane landed back in Europe. Sure, all it said was "Hello", but it was an opening.
Over the next few days, I gushed to my friend as I visited with her in Wales before heading to join my family in BC for Christmas. Bless her heart and God love her for putting up with my pathologically one-track mind. She might have thought me a few mint leaves short of a julep for working myself into a tizzy over someone I had just met, but if so, she hid it well.
My dad, on the other hand, made no effort to disguise his dubiousness about the whole situation. To be fair, he was reacting more to the fact that mere hours after "meeting" Steve via video chat, he saw me blissed out on the recliner, sipping hot chocolate while skyping with my boyfriend.
Whaaaa?!
Yeah... remember that boyfriend I mentioned in part 2? So I, um, kind of... sort of... maybe... definitely still hadn't pulled the plug on that relationship.
"How can you have feelings like that for more than one person at a time?" my dad asked, all the more incredulous after finding out I had a date lined up with a third person when I returned to Ottawa in January.
Now, I could sit here and tell you that I just didn't want to ruin the bf's holidays by ending things, but the truth of the matter is I was backburnering that boy hardcore. And as for the other guy? well, one must always hedge their bets, no?
I think it was pretty clear to my mom that my heart wasn't divided at all. Me, I think I let myself feel confused because I didn't want to admit that I was only holding on to the boyfriend as insurance against ending up alone. It's a crappy thing to do and I'm not proud of it (oh, and don't worry, I got exactly what I deserved in the form of heartbroken, but surprisingly aggressive verbal harassment for a few months after I finally did break up with him). But he was my safety, my sure thing, my dollars to doughnuts option. Never mind that I had spent the past few months agonizing over the fact that it didn't feel right with him.
No one has ever felt about me the way that he does, though.
As sure as I felt about Steve when I left Cameroon, the little seeds of doubt sprouted in the first few days after I returned to Canada. And well, insecurity is a powerful fertilizer.
Steve will probably never feel the same way. Especially now: out of sight, out of mind.
These fears were not entirely unfounded. Even as our messages and phone calls became more and more frequent and flirty over the following several weeks, our relationship remained entirely undefined. I couldn't bring myself to ask him about the girlfriend he had once mentioned. He did occasionally express reservations about us, one time wondering aloud whether we could ever truly be happy together. In those moments, the anxiety would sweep in, delivering a sucker punch to the gut that would leave me feeling winded and sick. There was no denying just how deeply invested I was.
Please, I pleaded with my Heavenly Father, please help him to figure out the truth for himself. Or, if I'm wrong, please help me to realize it before I get really, really hurt.
Perhaps it was these prayers that emboldened me to go on the chase like never before.
Two things:
1) I have never been one to chase. I might have pined from afar, obsessing over every detail of every interaction with my girlfriends, staging casual runs ins and generally being incredibly transparent about my feelings... but I did not chase, if only because I lacked the confidence to do so. If I so much as knew there was another girl considering entering the ring, I would cling tightly to keep my hat on my head. Also, I'm pretty morally opposed to boyfriend snatching, so...
2) Steve is not one who typically likes being chased. I guess it gets old to have girls throwing themselves at you all the time. I wouldn't know personally, but I can attest to the fact that it can be pretty funny to watch once you are secure in your relationship.
Anyhow, chase I did.
Every night before I went to bed I sent Steve a good morning message along with a quote from scripture or church leaders. I was going to be the first thing he thought about when he woke up, whether occurred to him on his own or not.
Though I didn't explicitly mean to, I realize now I peppered these messages with quotes about love, trust, eternal families, the temple... so yeah, a bunch of content that probably conditioned him to associate me with marriage. Honestly, now that I think about it, I don't think I won Steve's heart so much as I just gradually wore him down.
Can you get Stockholm syndrome from a distance?
In any case, things finally seemed to be working out in my favour for once. By early January our messages were riddled with kissy emojis, our phone calls with casual terms of endearment— and not just from me! One day in mid-January there was an uncharacteristic lull in our conversation as he paused for a moment, almost mid-sentence.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said thoughtfully, taking his time as if trying to formulate his words with care. "That boyfriend you talked about before, are you still with him?"
"Um, yeah, sort of," I stammered, as my heart began to thump uncomfortably. "I mean, I just haven't really figured out how to end things yet but I know I need to because, um, my heart belongs to someone else."
"Okay, good", he replied, adding, "it's time to cut the fat so we can be together" (ok, so I'm paraphrasing there, but you get the gist). Let me tell you, the ecstasy of that moment, mmm-mmmm!!! I danced around my room, my face in pain from grinning so hard, and told him that I agreed.
I, for one, followed through on my end of the bargain right away. The very next day I called up my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend (don't think me callous, that one was long distance too, just significantly closer and more visitable than Steve). I told him it was over. For good. No chance of getting back together.
Steve, well, I've long since forgiven him, but I still enjoy teasing him about waiting another three weeks before making things official on his end, though I was blissfully unaware at the time.
A few days later we read the scriptures together for the first time. Steve finished with a prayer. Then, as we were about to say goodbye, it came out, just as natural and profound as if he'd been saying it for 50 years already.
"I love you."
A happy giggle burst out. I couldn't suppress my pure joy and quite frankly, my relief. I pulled myself together as much as possible, and finally said the words I'd been biting back for weeks already.
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