Friday, September 14, 2012

From loke to love #2

O.K, so I have finally gotten around to doing the next part.

If you would like to read part one of from loke to love click here or to start from the very beginning click here.

n.b: This is great therapy. Try it some time.

The language of loke


from loke to love part two


I have had the worst day. Work has been tiresome. I hate being placed with clients bigger than myself. I love my job, but it does my back in pushing and coaxing children twice my size into eating and drinking and just generally doing everyday things that we all take for granted.

Seriously, they should take into consideration height and weight when putting you in charge of clients.

I am home. I have wandered aimlessly in through the interior door after parking in the garage.

I am ready for war.

Two days in a row I've asked Kyle (who has been bunking up the road in Oma and Opa's caravan - but eating and entertaining himself at my house) to clean up the kitchen.

He doesn't have three jobs and full time school.

He has only just moved.. but if you're "in between" careers thats fine. If you're sitting playing playstation all day and not lifting a finger. Thats not.

Since Dad died we have been a matriarchal family. Girls don't leave the seat up, they don't eat and leave food lying around for days and they definitely. Most definitely. Don't play playstation ALL day.

I am beginning to wonder if I will ever see the bottom of the kitchen sink again.

I note, the empty packet of chips left on the lounge room floor and make my way to the kitchen.

The sink is full. Not with clean dishes. Dirty ones. 

What has he done in the last 6 hours?

I am stalking around the house, waiting to pounce on him.

He isn't in the kitchen, the lounge. I check the bathroom..

He isn't there either. I shrug and go to check outside on the back deck. It's March 18th. There is no way he could be sun-baking. But he could be hiding. He should be. He is in trouble.

I slide open the laundry door to go out the back door and stuck to the glass of the back door (yes, that makes sense if you haven't been in our old house)is a note.


Jess,
If you love me for eternity, put on a nice dress and meet me at City Park. (p.s: I'm looking good)
                            Kyle (no middle name) Andrews


My heart starts pounding in my chest. I hate surprises. I thought he was putting it off. An engagement. The ring I had chosen.. It was big. It was expensive and rightly and deliberately so.

It would take every last cent he had to buy it for me. I knew that. But I picked it anyway. Because I wanted him to mean it. I needed to know that he was giving me everything and to Kyle. Money.. it was his deal breaker.

He had been living off his savings for the last month after he moved down while he figured out his next move. I knew that the last of it was important to him.

He wanted to be financially independent, set up.

I wanted him to have faith. Faith in me and Heavenly Fathers plan for him. A clean slate, a fresh start - a new home, hopefully soon a new job and (I hoped) a new wife.

The ring would be an unequivocal gesture of his love for me and it would be the shining, glistening example of it for the rest of the world to see.

Everyone would know I was his.


I want it to be HUGE, like his love for me and mine for him.

I want to look down at it and remember the love we have. 

I want it to be the symbol of our forever.


(yes, I still suffer from ring pride)

______________________________________________

It seems like forever, we have known each other for ever. But really its only been just over two months. 

I am waiting patiently. Praying. That he will say he loves me. I will not...cannot say it first.

We have talked about how he wants to move to be closer. How he wants to start a career after working aimlessly for a year after his mission.

He tells me he loves me. I hide a grin and add that I love him too. That I will support any decision he makes.


I talk about how it is important for him to do something he loves. He talks about how it is important to earn money. Lots of money.


Later, he talks about the future. Us.

I talk about how he needs a job that will surround him with good people who will uplift him and encourage him. He talks about how important it is to earn money. Lots of money.

Later, he talks about marriage. Us.

I talk about how he needs a job that will enable him to be home and fulfill any future callings. He talks about how important it is to earn money. Lots of money.

He moves down. He gets a job at the fish shop while he figures it out. I make him walk through the house on newspaper straight to the bathroom every time he comes over after work. I hate the smell of fish.

I tell him not to become a fish monger.


1 comment:

Sandy M. said...

What happens next?! :)