Puzzle Pieces

I met Dominick the day after I landed on Guam. I was in my uncle's church, standing in the front pew (my family's pew), glancing around at all the people I was going to have to meet once the service was over. Turning to my left, I was struck. Walking to the front of the church on the opposite side was a Chamorro boy, dark skin and black, penetrating eyes. And I immediately wanted to stand next to him, be in his orbit, sucked in by his gravity. Our eyes met, but he immediately turned away, as though looking at me stung.

Turning to my mother, I said, "Look at that boy! His eyes are striking. He has struck me."

I knew right then that he was The One. But I was so afraid, and I made my mind up to ignore it. Throughout the service, I couldn't help looking at him, and I found that he was often looking my way, as well. Same momentary eye contact followed by a swift retreat.

After church, every member of the congregation lined up to meet my family and I. Except for him. I watched him as I leaned in to kiss brown face after brown face. Watched him wander around the church, wander away from me, finding things to do that didn't involve being anywhere near me. I have to admit that I was simultaneously amused and frustrated. I was ready to meet him in order to be disappointed with him so that the pull I felt could end.

Finally, he made his way to the back of the church and sat in the last pew, a few feet away from me. My uncle saw him there and cried, "Dom! Have you met my nieces?" And that's how we met. Him afraid to talk to me. Me trying to fight the need to be next to him. Dominick, this is Crystal. Crystal, this is Dominick.

Boy meets girl. Puzzle pieces connect.

We spoke very briefly before he moved away from me. As he walked, one of the babies in the church, Eziah, reached out, away from his mother, towards Dom. Seeing that, seeing Dom's love for children and their love for him, melted the lock on my heart. I was no longer afraid to know him, need him, grow to love him. I was ready to be drawn in.

What I was afraid of, however, was being drawn into something that wasn't of God. So I prayed and prayed that, if these feelings weren't of God, weren't God's doing, that they would go away. Leave me and never return. But they never left; they only strengthened.

He didn't talk to me again for another week. At our first youth study, he walked in, saw me, and walked into another room. On Saturday, August 15th, he came to the house with his brother and sister for a little while, and I managed to completely insult his intelligence. I was making tuna salad with mustard in it, and he said that he had never heard of it.

"Mustard? It's the yellow stuff that goes on sandwiches and hot dogs."

...Yea. Oops.

But he wasn't too insulted, I guess, because the next day we went to Ritidian Point for a baptismal, and he followed me when I invited him to come dance in the rain on the beach. We sat in the shallow section of the ocean, immersed to our necks in the warm, salty water, and talked as waves rocked us.

The next Thursday, August 19th, was youth study, and, after arriving late, he proceeded to make eye contact with me constantly throughout the lesson. Very distracting. And he no longer pulled away, making the impact of his eyes course through me until the darts made a bull's eye of my heart, over and over again. Afterward, he came up to me for the very first time and started a conversation about my first day at the University of Guam. And that moment, the marking of his taking initiative in our relationship, was the last push we needed to go speeding down a steep slope into love. The night he got my number (and didn't know what do do with it), and that was the first time I thought, "Maybe he feels this, too."

Twelve days after I met him, I told Marina that Dom was the one I was going to marry.

The first time he called, he called my home instead. I later learned that it was out of respect for my mother. My uncle answered and told me it was David as he passed the phone because he had heard Naka mentioned a few times. When I answered, Dom said, "So I guess my name is David now?" I am suspicious that Uncle did this in order to make Dom think that other guys call the house for me. Make him panic a little. Sneaky, Uncle!

A week later, he brought me home from UOG (with a few errands ran in-between), the first time we were alone and free to talk without anyone else interrupting or joining the conversation. And the next night, he invited Marina and I to join his brother and cousin on a photo shoot. Marina and I basically kept to ourselves, dancing and trying to not get eaten by mosquitoes, and I'm pretty sure that his cousin talked to me more than he did. But after he dropped us off that night, he sent me a text thanking me for going with them. And that conversation didn't end until morning.

From then on, we texted constantly. Upon waking, I'd reach for my phone to either send one to him or see that he had send me a good morning message. And we'd talk throughout the day until we passed out in the early hours of morning.

Our conversations were never "normal." I think one of the very first times we talked, he asked me about my father. If he were anyone else, I would have shut down right then. But we talked about it. We talked about everything. All my pain. All my joy. Memories. Past "relationships." Desires. Fears. And the joy I felt was indescribable. I was giddy and bubbly like those teenage girls I've always despised, but it was deep, grounded, and full. Not thin like dish soap bubbles that pop before they have a chance to reach the sun. He and I spoke of having "twin grins" that wouldn't leave our faces and had matching, secretive eyes.

Of course, in the midst of all this, neither of us admitted to the other that the joy we were feeling was caused by blossoming love. Instead, we chose to speculate about how OTHER people must thing that there's something going on between us. And we thought of all the different ways we could make their suspicions grow. And when we were together, we fought the laughter that was constantly tickling our throats. And our faces grew sore from the perpetual twin grins.

The whole time, I knew that I had found my other half, and I had no legitimate doubt that he liked me. But I was frightened because the past had taught me that the men I get close to leave. So, though I knew the first time I saw him that my place was beside him, I was unwilling to clutch at that truth, holding it very lightly and away from me, like a puppy you're afraid might bite.

On September 14th, we had the first of a slew of landmark conversations. That night, I confessed to Dom that I was afraid of him. I admitted that I was afraid that the intensity of our connection would fizzle. I admitted that I was afraid that he would leave me. That I would get bored with him. That what we shared, the secrets in our eyes, the half moons on our faces, and the love like vines taking over my heart, would die. And he told me that he would never leave. Our connection would never die. That we would be together for life.

Bam. One unlocked shackle off my heart.

On September 15th, in the very early morning, he claimed me. He didn't ask. He just said, "I lay claim." Of course, I couldn't let him off that easily, so I said, "You lay claim on me?" And that tripped him up, and he wasn't sure how to answer. "Haha. Maybe. You're over here now. And I'm trippin'. Again." So I said, "I have no objections," and he answered, "I think I want it, too." Exactly 37 days after we met, we were together.

Our talk immediately turned to marriage, and I think the very first thing I asked him was whether or not we wanted kids. At no point has our relationship been ordinary, and we both were in it for life, for marriage, from the very beginning. We both knew that we were it.

He very nervously told his parents that day (he wasn't technically allowed to date, but then again, we never technically dated), and I very joyously told my family the following day. ("Dom likes me, and it makes me happy!") Everyone knew, of course, and (for the most part) shared in our joy. That night our two families came together in a new way, and we were sick with anxiety until we saw each other.

On the 29th, he asked my mother for permission to court me. Which she granted. And we started a whole new page together.

Neither of us ever pushed our relationship, and things just unfolded at their own pace. We've been through more together in less than three months than the average couple covers in their first year or two together. Constantly throughout our time together (and even before we were together) we've sought God. We want His will; we want His blessing. We want Him to look at our relationship and feel glorified by it. It's obvious to us and those around us that He has orchestrated the time line we've been been operating on. So, while the rapid expansion of our love may puzzle the world, we know that it is just as it should be, in the timing designed for it, with our Lord as the center of it.

After a little less than a month of struggling in different areas, getting to know each other better, and learning how to fill the roles that God laid out for us in relation to each other, we got engaged on October 10th around 9:30 pm. 62 days after that first Sunday.

That, though, is a whole separate entry.