the epic story

By popular demand, here is my side of the story, but for the other side, and my personal favorite, click here

It all started one Saturday. My mom and sister had come into town for a DUP conference in Salt Lake and were staying the night with me in Provo. I told them that The Giver was playing at BYU, but I had seen it the night previous night, so while my mom, sister, and best friend were at the show, I went to see HumorU.

I had never attended a HumorU show before; all I knew was it was stand up comedy and it looked as if they had a pretty good turnout the night before. I was all by myself (yes, I do this often) and found it to be quite funny. There was one act though that really got me laughing more so than the others. I enjoyed it a lot. You can probably guess who’s that was ;)

So after the show, being hyper from all the jokes and laughter, I ran over to my mom and started telling her about this set I enjoyed. I finally was like, “I’m going to ask him to marry me!” My rational brain said, “No, Katie. That is just too silly. You need to calm down.” But then I thought, “What would be the harm? I’m not even remotely dating anyone. And I can only get away with a fake marriage proposal at BYU. And I know I’ll regret it if I don’t.”

I ran (well, sort of) back to the table they had where you could write the boys of HumorU “nice notes” and comments about the show (The funniest ones would get put on t-shirts). So I grabbed a card and pencil and started writing, “Kyle Jepson, Will you—” I couldn’t do it. My rational brain had finally caught up with what I was doing and since it knew I couldn’t back down from what I had started, it conceded that I could put, “Will you go on a date with me?” or something to that effect. But my mother, who was tired of waiting for the HumorU show to get out and now was tired of waiting for me, said, “Don’t wimp out! Ask him to marry you!” I finished the card, and you can see a scanned copy of it here.

The next day, after church, of course, I checked my phone to see if he (or anyone for that matter) had called. There was a missed call from a number I didn’t recognize and a voice message! When we got back to my apartment, I put it on speakerphone for my mom, sister, and roommate to hear. Then, to the disappointment of all present, I went to the other room to call him back. We set a date to meet at Jamba Juice a week and a half later since it was the end of the semester and finals were upon us. I’ll admit I thought he set the date for so far in the future so that he could avoid me, which I was okay with since I expected him to be a jerk anyway.

But a week and a half later, he called me on Wednesday to make sure I hadn’t forgotten and to solidify the time for our meeting. I was excited, mostly because I enjoy meeting new people, even if they turn out to be jerks, and also I quite enjoy Jamba Juice.

I went to my French Final that morning, then killed time in the library before the encounter was to occur. I made sure to arrive a little late so I wouldn’t be the one waiting around for him. My excitement and nervousness grew with each step toward the Wilkinson Center. The sign for Jamba Juice came into view. I turned the corner.

“Katie!” a rather lanky boy called to me. He jumped out of his seat and gave me a huge hug. I don’t remember how I reacted, but I’m sure he does. We bought our drinks, sat down at a table in the Wilk, and proceeded to talk about everything. Following a discussion about countries, we moved to the large world map in the Kennedy Center. Before I knew it, almost 4 hours had passed! We parted ways so he could go to work, but it was definitely a reluctant goodbye.

Somehow, in those few hours and in the following week, we connected in a way that is very rare to me and has only happened once before. We’ll see how it all plays out. As for now, we are best friends :)