Freshman Folly/ Dear John

Earlier this week, as I walked into ASL 102, I noticed that the girl I frequently sit next to, who is normally quite sedate, was unusually chipper. I acted natural, and casually asked her how she was.

Small talk you know.

She responded enthusiastically, "Great! I just got a boyfriend three days ago!"

I'm the sort of girl who gets excited when others are excited, so I bounced around in my seat and asked for all the juicy details.

"Well," she said, "his name is [insert preferred name here] and I just like him so much. But he's getting his mission call in two weeks and then I will have to send him off for two years! But I like him so much and I'm so happy!"

Class began and I reminisced about that freshman-in-college naivety, that gleeful feeling of being liked by a cute, dorky, pre-mission boy. But then inside I laughed.

Oh how young we all once were. Oh how unknowing and unsuspecting. We looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and expected the best of every one and every situation. There was no reason for things to end poorly because the whole world was our oyster.

I hate that metaphor. Who eve likes oysters?!

I'm not judging this little freshman. In fact, I almost think it's cute. Almost. I just think that if I had the knowledge I have now when I was her age, a lot of things would have been different.

As I wrote that sentence, my Inner-Skeptic said, "Oh, please. You're only twenty. You think that makes you wise?"

Inner-Optimist: "I'm almost twenty-one!"

Skeptic: "Do you remember this post?"

Optimist: "What about it? I think it's cute in a dorky kind of way."

Skeptic: "Three missionaries? You sent off three missionaries. May I remind you that the two years are nearly up. You're losing time. They all come home this year. Not to mention the fact that you have since then added to the original list of three."

Optimist: "How many were there again?"

Skeptic: "Too many I care to count. You make me sick."

Optimist: "Don't you mean that we make us sick? What do we do now?"

Skeptic: "What is there to do? You got yourself into this mess, you have to get yourself out."

Optimist: "Don't you mean that we got our-self into this mess?"

Skeptic: "Stop that. Anyways, you aren't the same girl you were when those boys left you know. You actually liked the idea of having a boyfriend when they all left."

Optimist: "I like the idea of having a boyfriend...in movies."

Skeptic: "Those boys will be on the "wife-hunt" when they get home. None of them will want to marry you if you don't even want a boyfriend."

Optimist: "Is that so bad?

Skeptic: "Yes. Your problem used to be dating too much, now you don't date at all. You can't get married if you don't date."

Optimist: "I'm only twenty!"

Skeptic: "Almost twenty-one. Spinsterhood is on the horizon. You've got to get back into game mode. You need to start running more often and maybe actually doing your hair in the morning. No more weekends watching Pride and Prejudice and eating popcorn for dinner."

Optimist: "You're not my mother!"

Skeptic: "Our mother would say the same thing. Now go running."

Optimist: "After I finish this post."

A covert letter from my Inner-Optimist to the missionaries. Don't let my Inner-Skeptic find out.

Dear Elders (Jacob, Zach, David, Chris, Jordon, Preston, Jason, Elliot, Russell, and Brad),

I'm proud of you all for giving such faithful service for these past two years. I'm lucky to know all of you. Do you think you could ask your mission presidents for extensions?

Love Always,

Kelly Marie

Just for your information, I probably made up half of those missionaries' names. Probably.