A few months ago I got proposed to and the rush of feeling that came with the proposal was something that I had not expected. My reaction was not something that I had expected either. I never thought of myself as someone who would be satisfied with being proposed to on a couch, at home, in the living room, with my family on the watch. I thought it’d be romantic. I thought I’d be disgruntled that he didn’t even kneel on the ground. I wasn’t. I was so touched and so happy. I would have probably felt more timid and less likely to express myself if he had proposed in a public space.
It was our designated Christmas weekend. His original plan for proposing to me was for us to go ice-skating, we’d do a few rounds, and then he’s kneel on one knee and propose to me, but that didn’t work out. The reason why it didn’t work out was because it was below zero and there was way too much snow that weekend. The ice skating rinks were closed (we went to two or three different rinks before going home. We decided against an indoor rink because it was nearing my curfew).
The following evening, as he and I decided that my family could open the gifts we got for them early, he asked if I’d like my Christmas present early, too. I told him, word for word, “Duh.” He said, “Okay, let me get it. It’s in the car,” and proceeded to go out into the cold, get my present, come back inside, sit next to me, and told me to close my eyes. I was a little iffy about closing my eyes, only because he always teases me about gifting me bugs, but I did anyway, because he said trust me.
“Open your eyes.”
My eyes opened and I spotted the velvet black box in his hand. I felt my eyes grow wide. I felt my heart thumping. I felt my mind jumping to conclusions. But I stopped myself. What if I was getting much more excited than I should be? What if this wasn’t going to happen? What if it was actually a bracelet. A necklace. A pair of earrings?
My eyes went from the soft-looking box to him. I didn’t say a word. I only looked at him expectantly, eager, a bit unsure. He opened the box with a soft look on his face.
“Will you marry me?”
I was dumbstruck. “Uhhh… yeah?” was what came out of my mouth. He smiled a little and asked again, quietly, “So, will you marry me?” Yet again, I responded with, “Yeah?” as I nodded my head vigorously before saying “yes, yes! Of course! Yes!”
I know I had gasped. I know had wiped away tear after tear. I know that I had to stop all actions and mind and feelings to take a breather and stop the tears. I was so overwrought with happiness, joy, wonder, and awe – all things wonderful and good.
I couldn’t kiss him in front of my family. I couldn’t hug him, but he could tell from my face, all that I wanted to do.
He knew, and so he cupped my chin and told me how much he loves me, how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and that I am the only one for him. He enveloped me into a hug and so I was finally able to wrap my arms around his neck and cry, just a tiny bit, let all of those emotions out.
He knew what I wanted and so pulled me into the kitchen, away from prying eyes, and gave me a big hug, gave me a sweet kiss and a kiss to my forehead, and told me he loves me. I was in too much shock and awe to be able to do anything or say anything. I knew that I asked for many affirmations that this was all coming true because, despite all the times we have argued, despite his shortcomings and my own shortcomings, I have always believed that we were made for each other, as corny as that may sound. I was, and am, beyond happy that this has all happened. It is one of my most happiest nights.
I absolutely cannot wait for our wedding day.