Because I don't fall for the boys that fall for me. . .

Several years ago I did a semester in Faraway Land where there was a small branch of the Church—mostly made up of expats who were there for work.

It was my favorite branch I've ever belonged to. One American family in particular was very welcoming. They frequently had me over for dinner and took me out with them on fun excursions. It was a large family—they had 3 or 4 kids with them there in FL while the others were off studying in the US.

A couple years later and back in the US I randomly ended up running into the Oldest Son who I had never met before. He was here visiting from another state. My first impression? “Wow, cute.” We even ended up having a ton in common—similar educational background, interests, future life plans. We decided to keep in touch and made plans to get together the next time he was in town.

A few months later the entire family flew into town from FL. (Turns out they own a home near here.) OS came out for about a month, too. I began spending several days a week with him and his family. I felt like I fit right in with them. They were interesting and engaging.

We weren't always with the family, though—he was taking me out on classy and well-planned dates. I enjoyed spending time with him and couldn't believe how perfect he was.

A few nights before he was to fly back to the city where he lived, he decided to have “the talk” with me. He wanted to pursue a long distance relationship.

I knew it would be coming before he left and had spent the past couple of weeks trying to talk myself into it.

He initiated the conversation in the cutest and sweetest way possible. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't look him in the eyes and tell him that I reciprocated his feelings. It was heart wrenching. He was too perfect. But, you know, I just wasn't that into him.

I cried myself to sleep that night. I beat myself up, telling myself that I had just rejected the one guy who would probably be the most perfect match for me that I'd ever meet.

The truth is: I still think about him sometimes. It's been over 2 years since that night and sometimes I still wonder, what if? We haven't maintained contact. I don't know where he is, what he's doing, if he's married.

I know that I was true to my heart and can't regret that. But I do wonder: is being true to your heart always the best thing?

Ironically, my being upset about OS led me right into the arms of another guy—a guy I had liked forever, but in the end just wasn't that into me.

But that's a story for another day.