The Call

"Have you checked the mail box yet?" It just hit twelve. The mail was suppose to come at eleven.
"It isn't here." My mothers voice says to me. I pause. Something sounds off. Is she lying?
"You sure?" I double check.
"I don't think I can really screw up checking a mail box." I had to give her that. "When were you expecting it?" I sighed my heart dropping.
"Well I was hoping today but I didn't think it would come this early. Probably not til next week...or even the week after." I add as I count how many days it's been since my interview. Only twenty four. It felt like alot. My mother assures me it wasn't here and to be patient. I get back to work, my heart sunk for the week.
I get a call back from her within two minutes. I answered confused. We just talked. She rambles for a moment about my brother and picking up the car before finally saying.
"I lied, it's here. I wanted to surprise you but your brother is taking so long picking up the vehicle." As if the extra two minutes would matter to me. I jump for joy. Yelling and exclaiming my breathless happiness as quickly as possible. She is happy with me and wants me to open it immmediatly. We don't. I wait, somehow. Until after work. As I am driving home, I'm purposfully avoiding the white envelope next to me. The contents of which scare me, possibly to death. Or at least, denial. What will they say? Where will they send me? I'm scared and excited. But it is my fear that keeps me from ripping open the envelope and ruining the surprise for everyone.
I recieve a call from my father, who is at work, letting me know that we should hit the house at the exact same time. I slow my vehicle down. How am I suppose to open this letter? How am I suppose to face my fate? Where will I go?!?!?!? How will I do?!?!?! I immediatly decide I'm not ready for something this big. As to how I even got to this point is completely in question. I'm not strong enough for something like this. I'm not smart enough, I don't know enough. Every fear that I could have is filling me and as I enter my house I hide in my room.
Everything is the same. My house is the same. My family is the same. My mother is cooking, my brother is playing on the tv, my sister is skyping, my other brother is at work and my father hasn't gotten home yet. It appeared I was the only one freaking out. Like my world was being turned upside down and inside out. Like I might have to turn down this opportunity. I search for the strength that brought me to this opportunity and slowly crawl out of my room as my dad walks in.
"Alright let's do this. Where's mom. Okay, where's Kayla." I make myself known and take a seat. Everyone pauses their life and moves towards me eyes just as weary as mine. And in that moment I pause.
I forgot.
I forgot how much this will affect them. I forgot how much they share my fear and desire. I forgot that they want to see me happy. I forgot that they would be missing me as much as I would be missing them. And with my Dads eyes bright (he's the only one that went on a mission) I open the page and read out loud where I will be going.
"Oklahoma, Tulsa Mission. English speaking." That's all I can get out. I burst into smiles. My family cheers and applaudes. My Dad couldn't be happier.
"Perfect, I won't have to worry too much." Everyone agree's, copying his statement. I keep reading the letter.
"I report to the Provo MTC July 6th." More smiles, everyone agrees this is good and continue with their life. I walk to my room my mind spinning.
I was sure I was going Spanish speaking......I thought....I thought I would go out of the US....I wanted to go out of the US.....Why do I want to know Spanish so bad if it wasn't to prepare me for a mission lord?......
I don't understand why I would have such a strong desire to learn Spanish if it wasn't for this. And as I go through my papers I get this feeling. This perfect peaceful feeling that this is right. And suddenly I get swarmed with all of these thoughts.

I had always wanted to go visit little towns.

I had always wanted to get away from the city (see this post, and then this post, both of which seem completely ironic right now and yet so fitting).

I'm not ready to go outside of the US.

This is perfect for not only me but my family as well.

Baby steps.

I don't think I can properly state how badly I have wanted to go visit the sticks of middle america.

And above all else was that feeling. That perfect feeling that this was meant to be in ways that I can't even see. And then I got online and saw this:

Consider the deal sealed.

Boys

I have two brothers. One Older than me, one younger. And I have a dad. And Uncles. And male cousins. So I know alot of boys...guys....males? And then there is just information out there for the world to find. Movies and books, television and plays. Boys are depicted everywhere. Sorry, males. I'm not trying to say that every guy I meet acts like a child, I'm simply calling males boys.

So I think I know boys....or can at least expect certain things. No chick flicks, don't get all emotional and crazy on them, they don't understand how women work, don't talk periods, don't expect too much sympathy, they aren't very good at being gentlemen, they're pretty immature, they're kind of crude and sexual, and very focused on the physical aspects of women and they really like to talk to other males. And a whole lot of other slightly bitter stereotypes.*

*Not to say that I think all men are pigs or sexist or disgusting or jerks I just kind of clumped them all together for some reason. My bad.

Well that isn't true at all.

I just got to spend a little over forty eight hours straight with a group of four guys, which isn't a lot, but they weren't anything I thought they would be. I was preparing myself for...farting and hitting on ladies and being ignored and rock music (they're all young guys). But I got none of those things. I met a guy who has a greater Disney collection than I do. Was I ignorant enough to think it made him slightly less manly? Yes. I'm sad to admit it but yeah. I thought it was weird. But then I got to know him a little more and I found....he just liked Disney. And soft music, and acoustic versions of songs. He was in the air force for a while. He's now a security guard. He carries a gun and threatens people for a living. So, yes, I was expecting some Rob Zombie. But I never got it. I got Pocahontas and Aladdin. And it was Heaven. Suddenly I wanted MY husband (future husband that is) to like Disney. I wanted to be able to snuggle to Little Mermaid without him thinking he was doing me a favor. I wanted to be able to listen to Disney soundtracks and not have him make fun of me for it. And this man, this amazingly kind man, was so sweet. I made fun of him, constantly, his music, his car, his....dad like accessories (Sunscreen? Really? Yeah I used some. So glad he brought it). And all he ever was, was nicer. He found music I would like, checking to see if what he put on was okay (I tried to not be too picky, I was just shocked he listened to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir so much). I changed into a Mumford & Sons shirt for the car ride home AND HE FOUND THE ONLY SONG HE HAS BY THEM AND PLAYED IT FOR ME (without saying anything. It was adorable). And it just got better from there.**

Another kid, whom I have known for FOREVER and love dearly, talked about how women should be dressed less skankaly now that it looked like it was going to rain. What guy gets GLAD about that? They were respectful and nice, they never became demeaning or perverted. And I don't know if they were on their best behavior for me and my friend but it was charming. Suddenly I became the only person that said the crude jokes (that's what she said?). And the line of respect between men and women grew. They were careful and secretive with us, they never got suggestive even in joking. They never pushed the line of (BIG SIDE NOTE I am so tired today I CAN'T THINK OF ANY WORDS. I'm like....sexuality?....What does that even mean?)...anything. They never pushed any line. They were careful and respectful. And I loved it. I mean they were still guys and joked about getting numbers but it was so....different. Suddenly it became M.I.L.K. Mother I'd like to kiss (KISS!! How adorable is that?!?). And M.I.L.T.T.O.A.D. Mother I'd Like to Take On A Date. They knew their lines, and they didn't even joke about crossing them.

So as we are driving back to Las Vegas, and I'm in this car full of Disney Music and one Mumford and Sons song, and Disney pins and cute gifts for girls they like and I see a billboard sporting a lady with no top on, one with no pants and then one with a girl dancing suggestively in short clothing and I....I just want to cry for them. I want to take all this away. I want to make it easier for them. I want to keep them so...sweet.

And my respect for them went through the roof. I sometimes forget exactly how hard a guy can have it in this insane world. How if they aren't ready to jump the next girl that crosses their path they're called gay or thought something is wrong with them, and then if they do act like a dog in heat they are considered perverted. It's such a hard line to walk and these guys aced it, in spades. So if I can just say, ladies if you are looking for a man to marry that is respectful towards women I have four.

**The reason his kindness was such a big deal is because....he wasn't into me, I wasn't into him. We're friends. And I found (especially in the singles ward) if they aren't interested in you as a mate...they aren't really that interested in you. And then their kindness and patience for you as a human being goes out the window. Sad, but true. So this is really my reminder about how hard boys have it along with how they restored my faith in males by just being nice, nothing expected, nothing wanted, just nice.