my english assignment was to "go over the top";)

Joy Marie Prior
Professor Harris
Honors 150 Sec 15
September 16, 2009
Like Moroni
He was tall dark and handsome with rippling muscles and when he turned his head his hair swished against his perfect brow. When I saw him enter the room my heart skipped a beat. The others who followed in behind him looked like boys compared to his manly frame. I turned my head away quickly before he caught me starring. My golden blond hair cascaded down my turned shoulder, and I wondered if he was hearing the same chorus of angles that I was.
I remembered in Young Women’s when I was a Beehive sitting in the front row. The lesson was on eternal companions, and how we all deserved the best husband, because we are all the best. It was then that I feel in love with him he was strong, mighty man, with a perfect understanding, with a firm faith in Christ, a man that loved liberty, and freedom, he was not violent, but he would defend his rights, people, country, religion, even if it put his life in danger, and above all if all men were like him the very gates of Hell would tremble.
Moroni’s perfection gave him an untouchable feeling, like Edward in Twilight. Subsequently it was the next ideal example or should I say examples that struck me. Not only were they everything that Moroni was, but they also listened to their mothers. Most important there were 2,000 of them, 2,000 options for me to chose from. At the age of thirteen I knew that something stronger than fate would pull me towards my eternal companion, and he would be no less of a man than one of the Stripling Warrior. From the age of thirteen I also knew I could never bring my standards down; I was destined to love someone who was of the same caliber as Mormon’s stripling warriors. There were 2,000 of them in the Book of Mormon. There had to be at least one in my generation, and he was for me.
I sat there listening to him as he sung Hymns and strummed his guitar, wondering why Alma did not mention Moroni’s musical talents. After pondering this for a moment I came to the conclusion that if Moroni lived in the twenty first century he would not only be an accomplished musician, but seeing as girls only want to date guys with sweet skills Moronie’s talents would not only include his strength with a sword, but numchukas skills, and computer hacking skills. Unfortunately Moroni could not have been exposed to such enriching activities at his time. It was not his fault though, and he did return with honor and endured to the end.
A life time passed between the moments he put his guitar in his hands and sat next to me on the coach. His voice was like honey dripping with sweet goodness into my ears. As he sang the butterflies in my stomach fluttered more and more. Despite all of these facts I could not bring myself to picture us staring into each others eyes across the alter. The minutes seemed like hours as I waited our true love, and his worthiness.
I watched him put his guitar away with one hand; his biceps tightening slightly as he set it down. We listened like vultures preparing to descend on it’s prey as the silence filled in between us. At long last he turned to me sharply. I was glad that I was sitting because my knees buckled when his piercing blue eyes locked with mine. It was impossible not to hesitate before I could gather enough courage to ask him his name.
He answered in that cool smooth voice that slide like butter across a hot pan. His crocked smile melted my heart like puddie in his hands. Gaining my composure I smiled weakly. Our conversation was an orchestra playing on a clear summer night. Our words danced like notes through the air. It sent chills down my spin as I realized how similar we are. Both of us like the color light tan, puppies, serving the Lord, hiking, and playing volleyball every day. The night passed on into sweet bliss, and before I knew it the clock struck eleven. Just like Cinderella, I too had a curfew, it’s called Brigham Young University Honor Code. My night in shinning armor took the initiative of the potentially destructive situation and encouraged everyone to go home by saying a closing prayer.
It was love at first sight. I knew it. Reluctantly we pried ourselves off the coach, and made our way to the door. He was leaving now, but before he walked out into the lobby he turned and said, “I had a nice time”. We shock hands. With my pale fingers wrapped in his firm hands I felt safe, and loved. I no longer questioned if we knew each other in the preexistence; I knew we had.