Two years ago from this day (August 7th), I got in to the car by myself (which was still a very weird feeling) and began the drive to the Oakland Airport. I had been waiting for this day for three years and one month. I had planned out what I would say, what I would do, how I would look. However, in the whirlwind of coming home (and the panic over how to get away with wearing a missionary skirt while no longer being a missionary), I completely forget all previous plans.
And the conversation with myself in the car went like this:
"Do I walk to him or do I wait till he comes to me? Guess I'll figure that out when I get there."
"Do I shake his hand? No, I know that would be the awkward RM thing to do."
"Do I hug him? I think I could handle that. I did hug my dad yesterday."
"What if he kisses me? No, there is no way he'd do that."
I got to the airport and walked in. I stood there facing the escalator, wearing a borrowed blue skirt (that I had pushed down on my hips to feel more modest) and waited.*
And then I saw him. Aaron. Black polo, curly hair, tan skin, big grin.
He saw me and then before I knew it, I was moving quickly forward and he was running down the escalator. And without any hesitation, we hugged! And twirled and hugged! And then, as if it had been like no time had passed at all, Aaron pulled me in and kissed me! And I liked it! He kissed me right there in the middle of all the other southwest arrivals!
My cheeks were rosy.
Aaron put his arm around my shoulder, we walked towards the exit and he said (kind of to himself and kind of to me), "Feels like we've never been apart."
|One of our last days at BYU before Aaron left for his mission|
|Our first BYU football game together again about a month after I got back from my mission.|
*Aaron later said he chuckled to himself when he noticed my skirt and thought, She still looks like a sister missionary.