I received that message from a guy with gorgeous blue eyes late in the evening on July 5th. He asked for my number on July 9th, took me on a date July 10th, on a second date July 11th, and the rest, as it turns out, is history.
Three weeks before that, I wrote a blog post about turning 31, how hard it was, how difficult it was to hold onto hope, and that it was exhausting to continue watching the people around me land their “25 inch trout” while my constant reeling wasn’t yielding results.
Spencer Hunter is the youngest of 2, with a married sister. We share a deep love of books, movies and music – he has a voice that makes me weak at the knees. He’s very intelligent, a hard worker, and ambitious. He brings out my silly side, but we have equally as many intellectual conversations as ridiculous. He’s patient and isn’t afraid of facing hard things in life. He has a spectacular family, who have accepted me without question. More than anything, he’s the kindest human being I’ve ever known. He makes me happy, calms me down, and lifts me up.
Our initial messaging conversation was full of movie quotes, debates about our favorite books, excitement over upcoming movies, and a healthy dose of hope. The weeks after we started dating felt happy and overwhelming to me. My long, painful dating history made me wary and nervous about any guy who showed enthusiasm for me, and I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, while at the same time enjoying every second of getting to know this incredible man. The night he told me he loved me for the first time, I simply responded with, “I know.” He has been so patient, so loving, so encouraging as he waited for my insecurities to fall away. Our relationship has been shockingly easy, but real. We are different in ways that compliment each other and similar in ways that make it simple.
Two weeks ago, he told me that if I “wanted to dress nice on Wednesday, that would fun.” As in so many things, he knew me well enough to know that I’d want a heads up that something special was going down. When he picked me up, he handed me a flower and told me that the theme of the evening was “Just go with me.” On my seat in the car was another flower, a jewelry box, and a card. Spencer is incredibly gifted with his words, and he had written me a beautiful poem – at the end of each stanza was a question. The first question he asked me was, “Beloved, will you go with me?” and inside the jewelry box was a luggage lock.
We drove to downtown Salt Lake and walked around temple square. As we got to the reflecting pool, there was another card, another jewelry box, and more flowers. The second stanza ended with the question, “Beloved, will you build with me?” Inside the box was a house key. (Apparently his dad was standing guard nearby, but I was a little distracted and didn’t notice.)
From there we went to the Roof Restaurant, where the last stanza of the poem, jewelry box and roses were waiting. The final question he wrote was, “Beloved, will you create with me?” and inside the box was a pacifier. (And yes, I was sobbing by this point.) Dinner was spectacular – we sampled every single dessert they had. When it was over, he grabbed my hand, said again, “Just go with me.” And we walked back to the car.
He told me to put on some music, as we had a bit of a drive ahead of us. I threw on the playlist of my favorite love songs, and we listened, sang and mostly just grinned at each other. As we were pulling off the freeway, our love song came on (totally not planned). It’s a country song that I first heard a few weeks after we started dating, and the first time I heard it, I started crying because it so perfectly captured what I was feeling, fearing, and hoping.
You say what if I hurt you, what if I leave you?
What if I find somebody else and I don't need you?
What if this goes south, what if I mess you up?
You say what if I break your heart in two then what.
Well I hear you girl, I feel you girl but not so fast,
Before you make your mind up I gotta ask:
What if I was made for you and you were made for me?
What if this is it, what if it's meant to be?
What if I ain't one of them fools just playin' some game?
What if I just pulled you close, what if I leaned in,
And the stars line up and it's our last first kiss?
What if one of these days baby I'd go and change your name?
What if I loved all these what ifs away?
After the song finished, he switched the music over to his phone to play me a song. He’s mentioned several times that he had a favorite love song, but has never told me what it is, nor let me listen to it. Don McLean came over the radio, singing, “And I love you so / The people ask me how / How I’ve lived till now / I say that I don’t know.” Just as the Timpanogos temple pulled into sight, the strains of “Peace Like a River” flowed through the car, and we both started crying. He walked me to the front of the temple, asked if I would go with him, if I would build with him, if I would create with him, if I would marry him.
Yes. Every day, yes.