Our Story, Part III--the Rising Action

We wrote.
Okay, fine. I wrote.
His letter is somewhere in the Peruvian Amazon. Apparently one extra word in an address can significantly alter the destination of snail mail. Sometimes I still wonder wistfully what that letter says and who has it...

Anyway, fast forward. I'm home early from Bolivia with health problems. And I couldn't keep myself from wondering why I had felt to turn down a wonderful grad school offer only to have to return home after a few months on a mission. Here I was--no job, no school, and no prospects of a job or school. It was confusing, to say the least.

In that confused state, I wrote Elder Keyes a letter (don't try this at home, kids). And I was scared. Scared that he would think less of me for being home or that he wouldn't write me. But guess what?
He wrote me back. And he was the same way he'd always been toward me, which, technically, I still didn't know how to interpret, BUT it was still nice to hear from the same old Elder Keyes.
Feeling relieved and somewhat emboldened by his response, I wrote a prettttty nerdy letter back, incorporating snippets from my unused scrapbooking supplies I had stumbled upon at home (once again, don't try this at home, kids). I knew he'd either love it or think it was over-the-top/repulsive, but I sent it anyway. What can I say? I'm a risk-taker.
I didn't hear back.
Ouch/Oops. 
To me, not hearing back from him was like the equivalent of the person who just stops coming into work instead of formally quitting. At first you make excuses for them. "I'm sure tomorrow they'll be in. I'm sure there's a good reason." But little by little, you realize--they ain't comin' back! Touchée, Elder Keyes. Touchée.
Even though I secretly felt more and more embarrassed as the months of silence went on, I brushed it off like a champ. (Come to find out, Brandon said that's his favorite letter he ever received. To which I stick out my tongue and say, "Actions speak louder than words." And "You're not the boss of me." And "My brother can beat up your brother." And other awesome things.)
Feeling thus shafted, naturally I proceeded to have another cute friend write him. Apparently that's my "thing."
And then I started dating someone, and I mostly forgot about Elder Keyes.
Mostly.
I also started applying to graduate school--again. And, boy oh boy, was I ever set on going to school in the U.K! London, here I come! If you don't believe me, just look at my past posts. I made a bucketlist and everything. Oh, also, I applied to BYU as an afterthought. As a safety net. At the urging of my (wise) mother.
And then personal revelation happened. And personal revelation told me that I wasn't going anywhere. My future would look like this:
Weekends exploring  the Cotswolds  the depths of the Smith Field House
Jaunts over to Paris  the Richards Building
Walking up the steps of Scot's Monument  death by the RB
Exploring the old stomping grounds of my forebears  myself.

Why?!
I didn't know. But after 9 months of praying and agonizing over which school to pick, I was just glad to get a decision. So I listened and I stayed at BYU. In Provo, Utah. Again. 

Fast forward to September 2012. Things are on the rocks with me and the guy I was dating. It was feeling all wrong, and then
BOOM
out of nowhere I get an email from Elder Keyes. Short. Sweet. Unexpected. Basically he's coming home in two months and he's excited to catch up.

To make a long two months short, I spent those two months telling myself all the reasons I shouldn't expect anything at all. I think I was actually pretty successful. But not entirely because...
1. I vividly remember feeling "VICTORY!" when he added me on facebook the first day he logged back in. I think I even did a fist pump.
2. When he finally got to Provo, I was on the tail end of my holidays at home. He texted me to let me know he was finally here and that we should get together. Being the very cool and nonchalant girl that I am, I think I dropped whatever I was holding (unless it was my niece, guys) and I booked it back to Provo. As I was getting off the Provo exit, he let me know that getting together probably wouldn't happen that day after all. 
I mentally smacked myself and then decided to pamper myself with a book, a bubble bath, and early bedtime. I know. While thus reveling in my otherwise-empty apartment, I got a text from Brandon saying "I'm gonna come over and see you!"
Make up your mind, boy!!! I mean, [shrugs] "Yeah, sure. Come on over if you want."
What?!?!?!?
First time I'd see the guy in 2 years, and I'm in the bath, hair on top of my head, no makeup, reading The Rent Collector (good book, btw).
I got it together, though. Cuz I'm a girl, and that's what we do. We may take two hours to get ready, but you better believe we can make do with ten minutes and still have time to make it look like we've been busy and that we had totally even forgotten you were coming over!!! What a pleasant surprise!!


And then the doorbell rang...