Engaged! Like three months ago!

For the very few of you readers that I’m not related to, you don’t know that that in February, two years to the day that we first met, R proposed.

The proposal story, while not romantic by many women’s standards I would presume, was perfectly fitting.

After a long day, which included an uncomfortable come-to-Jesus talk with my department head who I never played well with, and a final interview for the job I currently have, I booted on our shared anniversary plans to go ice skating (one of our early date activities) and insisted R meet me at the bar where we went on our first date.

I drank old fashions and complained about my day, recounting for him both the job interview and the awkward we-know-you’re-not-happy-here conversation with my employer. R was oddly quiet.

He wanted to go out to dinner, which I resisted given his 8am flight to Mardi Gras the following day and that he had yet to pack. R insisted for the sake of anniversary posterity. We ended up at the restaurant where we’d spent the previous Valentine’s Day, tucked near the front window drinking red wine and eating fondue.

At the end of the night, the waiter asked what we were celebrating, to which I replied, “Our anniversary, but don’t worry, he’s not going to propose.”*

“You think I’m not going to propose tonight?” R asked.

“No, I do not,” I replied.

“You think I don’t have a diamond ring in my pocket?” He taunted.

“Absolutely not,” I said, with admittedly many more swears.

He responded by triumphantly slamming a black, velvet ring box on the restaurant table.  The waiter slowly backed away.

R came around to where I was sitting and got down on one knee, saying what I presume were very loving, kind things about spending the rest of his life with me that I can’t for the life of me recall due to my shock.

He put the ring on my finger. I yelled, “You fucking lied to me!”* He reminded me I had to say yes.

It was one of the finest moments of my life.**

 

*R had insisted very passionately earlier in the week he wasn’t going to propose the night before he left town for the weekend, as we both agreed that would be very rude. He was just trying to throw me off my game.

**I should also mention, R did have a very well-thought out and thoughtful proposal planned at the ice skating rink, which I ruined.

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