Our Love Part V, wherein the lovers have to make big decisions

My first kiss with Christoph was recently, so I wrote down the very long version of us being in love. If you want to read the other parts, scroll on down!

So, Shelly opened her call, I got moved into my new apartment, Chris moved back into Centennial, and the school year began. I sort of felt like everything was great. I loved my job, I loved my classes, I loved my apartment, I loved my roommates (even though Kiley was the only OG left—we stuck together until the end), and I loved my boyfriend. But that’s the thing. Eventually your boyfriend kind of needs to become your fiancé or your ex-boyfriend. And honestly, both prospects put me into a cold sweat.

I began to more earnestly find out if I wanted to marry Chris. I prayed a lot, I read a lot of talks about marriage and about personal revelation, and I actually purchased a book called, “How Do You Know if You’re Really in Love?” which was so embarrassing to me. I acted like it was drugs. I had my own room at this point in time, which made it easier to hide, but still. I was terrified of someone finding it and mocking me.

Around this time, I read a quote from Joseph Smith, from the Lectures on Faith: "where doubt and uncertainty are there faith is not, nor can it be. For doubt and faith do not exist in the same person at the same time." (It's from the Lectures on Faith, but I can't seem to find a super legit source for it. See? But even if that's not exactly what it says, it's got the gist of what I got from it.) This quote really made me think. If I'm fearful, does that mean I'm not faithful? Do I need to take that blind step of faith to the next step, getting engaged, before I receive an answer? (SPOILER ALERT--yes.)

I also talked to my parents a lot. They were awesome. I originally wrote here that they were rooting for Team Chris, but really, they weren't. They love Chris, and I know they hoped we would get married, but they were really on Team Erin, and just wanted me to be happy in whatever decision I made. In one conversation I had with my dad, he said, “Erin, I know you don’t feel like you’re getting a strong answer to your prayers. But I think that usually the absence of a ‘No’ is actually a ‘Yes’. The Lord isn’t going to let you enter into a relationship that isn’t right. So I think what He’s telling you is that YOU have to decide.”

I kept trying to fake myself out after that. Well, fake out myself and Heavenly Father. I would pray and say, “Ok, I have decided that I for sure want to get married. Is that the right decision?” And then I would wait. And then I would get my answer again—you decide.

Eventually I did little things, like say, “Hey, let’s look at rings.” So we went ring shopping one rainy Saturday afternoon. (And I found a bee-yoo-ti-ful one that I now wear every day, fyi.)

On a Monday in October 2007, I said to Chris, “Ok. Let’s do it. For real. Let’s get married.” I was still kind of freaking out, but I thought, “Well, you know, he’ll wait until like December to propose, and then we can get married in like April.” That week my parents were getting new carpet, which is basically like moving, so we went over and helped them move all the furniture onto the wood floors. The next day we needed to move it back, but I had a big test to study for, so I went to the library and Chris went to my house to help move furniture. While at the library I realized that this meant Chris would be alone, at my parents’ house. Which meant he could do something like talk to my dad. He came and picked me up at the library, and I said, “Oh my gosh. Did you talk to my dad?” And he said, “No way dude, I’m too much of a weenie.” And I believed him, because he is.

Honestly, I was relieved, because I knew that would delay the actual proposing by a little bit. (I feel really weird relating it like this, like I didn’t want to get married. I did. I was just really scared. And you know what? This is what happened. I’m not going to make things up to make it sound better. So there you go.)

Tune in next time to read about the my bleachy hands getting a wedding ring . . . . .