Thursday, April 01, 2010

I Trove You


Back when we were engaged, Mr. C. and I weren't the only happy couple in our ward.

Wait. I need to start sooner.


When you are engaged in a BYU ward, you're supposed to go to a relationships class during Sunday School.
Before you think this is crazy, I should let you know the class is for anyone. You don't have to be engaged or dating to attend because the relationships class talks about every kind of relationship you can imagine.
Unless someone in the class gets on a soapbox.
Or unless there is an over-the-moon engaged couple willing to give advice left and right.

Mr. C. and I were not that couple.
We were the couple who sat in the back and stared at each other.


Just kidding!
We were the couple who sat close to each other and didn't say much at all.
We were the couple who sat in the middle, passed notes, and whispered.
Sometimes Mr. C. played games on his iPod.
Sometimes I used his coat to cover my legs.
We were that couple.
Annoying, right?


This story is not about us, though.
This story is about another engaged couple, both of whom were in our ward.
We didn't really know them.
I'm sure they were nice.

They gave a lot of advice, which is good.
People like advice.
Since I was usually drawing hearts to pass to Mr. C., I didn't always listen.
I do, however, remember one piece the girl gave sans her other half.

In Relief Society, during another relationship discussion (which replaced the relationship class for the day), she put up her hand and said something along the lines of, "Even more important than saying 'I love you' is 'I trust you.' because..." and went into a long explanation, including the fact that she and her fiance said "I trust you" much more than "I love you" since it was a higher way to show your love for them or something of the sort.

I was sitting in the back of the room with my friend.
My friend looked at me and I looked at her.
We both stifled a laugh.
The comment was meant well, but it sounded funny.

Then I felt guilty because I didn't often tell Mr. C. "I trust you."
Did that make me a bad lover?
I had told him "I trust you" before, but I preferred the L word.
At the time, my favorite way to say "I love you" was "I love-a you" as I batted my eyelashes and twirled my long hair.
I know, really annoying.
But he liked it.


After church, I told Mr. C. about the comment.
I still felt guilty- did my lack of saying "I trust you" mean that I didn't trust him as much as I should trust my future hubs?
Mr. C. looked at me funnily as I told him the comment.
Then he lost it.
He laughed so hard I thought he was going to cry.

Then he picked up my hand, brushed back my hair, and said...
"Elisabeth Bogart, I trust you."
Immediately, my guilt was gone as a fact clicked in my mind.

Though such a statement is great for some couples, Mr. C. and I were never meant to be the couple who said things like "I trust you."
We were (and are) meant to be the kind of couple who laugh really hard at 2 am while we are going to sleep.
I'm the kind of wife who says "Hey. You're cute." when I see my husband in a group of people.
Mr. C. is the kind of husband who likes to put a dot of paint in my paintings or stitch a stitch in one of my projects so he can say it was his work, too.
We are closer than I ever imagined possible.
And because of the seriousness that comes with that closeness, we like to have a lot of fun that comes along the way.
I guess I'm saying that we're just happy to have each other.


The moral of this story:
We are not the most serious of couples.
We're just seriously in love.


The other moral:
Don't let Mr. C. know about funny things people say in relationships.
He'll warp them in his own way.
Meaning that more than a year after this occurrence Mr. C. comes up to me late at night, covers my lips and says, "I trove you."
Yes.
That is "I love you" and "I trust you" turned into one.

P.S. You can read another saying Mr. C. loves right here.