Friday, August 29, 2014

Two sides.

Everyone knows that saying "there are two sides to every story." At least, most everybody in the English speaking world does. In my life I have also found that some of the best stories come from knowing the two separate sides and view points of one same event. I always find myself asking Peter's perspective on important milestones of our relationship together. I love hearing the other side of our first meeting, our first (and last) kiss before his mission, our wedding day etc. I probably always will.

One of my favourite two-side stories happened in March of 2011 when we were inseparable best friends. It was the Saturday afternoon on a long weekend. We had attempted (and been kicked off of) Haiku stairs that Thursday night/Friday morning, had a large birthday gathering at Waimea beach for our friend Brian's birthday, attended Azriel's mission call opening, and essentially just been going and going for two days on very little sleep. We were sat in our spot in my Hale's lounge (if you ever needed to find either of us, that spot was essentially a given for our whereabouts) doing homework. Actually, Peter was doing homework, I had placed my laptop on the desk and leaned my head against the back of the couch where we sat, claiming to just be "resting my eyes," but really was hoping I could sleep fast and deep before we had dinner. As I drifted off, my mind was in the scrabble of last minute thought dumping that occurs as you doze, you know, the floating extras of thoughts that dance rapidly around your brain, none of them very long lasting, and all of them fast appearing. One of these thoughts was Peter's name, probably because he was who was next to me, and I was indubitably, although I would deny it, falling in love with him.
Just as his name appeared in the forefront of my memory, Peter spoke to me. "Yes, darling?" He said, (I should have known we would get married, what 19 year old "platonic" best friends of opposite genders casually refer to each other as darling as often as we did?)
Startled, I jerked awake. I told him, "nothing," and got back to work.

As we walked to the cafeteria about half an hour later, I asked Peter about what had happened on the couch. I swear I had not spoken aloud, but as soon as I had thought the name "Peter," he had answered me. How could such a thing happen? Had I called his name? Had I reached forward without realizing it? Was he secretly a mind reader and had made his first slip up at protecting his superpower??

"Your name floated to my mind, and a second later you answered me. Did I say something out loud??" I asked him.
"You thought my name?" He questioned back? "Really?"
"Yes! And you answered!"
"Huh, interesting" he told me.

As it turns out, Peter doesn't have psychic powers. He told me we were sitting on the couch, me turned facing him as I tried to nap mostly upright, and he was working on a paper. As I drifted off I was silent, until suddenly and forcefully I called out "mmrrreeeggghhhh."
Think the sound a duck makes, but deep in the nasal canal and mixed with the sound one makes as they strive desperately to open a jar, or push out a stubborn bowel movement. Possibly both at the same time.
Surprised by this sudden and unattractive outburst by his seemingly sleeping companion, Peter answered warily, "uhhhhh, yes? Darling...?" Trepidatiously testing to see if I had suddenly had an aneurism or was possibly about to soil the couch we shared. Surprised I had woken up, and continued with my homework.

Peter found it so funny to know my side of the story that he enjoyed replicating my outburst every few hours for the rest of the day, claiming that was now his name. I mean, sure, every guy wants to know that when a girl thinks of him as she falls asleep she nasally replicates some sort of ugly bird mating call. Right? Right. 

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