Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Day 21, The Serial Proposer. Forty days of patience (and other good stuff).

I've popped the big Q to my boyfriend more times than I can remember. So it was no surprise that on February 29th this year I asked again and was shot down as normal.
Now, it's not like every time I propose I have a ring and I'm down on one knee. The first few times I was expecting a yes but after it became clear that he wanted to do the proposing, the question just slipped out as easy as 'I love you', like a sort of secret language or in-joke that only couples share.

The eve of our ten year anniversary (which is also my birthday) this year was the one day that girls could legitimately propose. How divine is that? Even though God had insisted I wait allllllll this time (talk about patience,right!), he had given me the perfect stage on which to set my creativity and romance.
*as a side note, the day also coincided with The Walking Dead which I put back a whole hour, that's how serious I was.

I bought rings, I shared excitement with the people who served me, I decorated a cake with the words 'Marry Me', I spent an hour trying to find the right combination of letters in spaghetti but gave up after I discovered the mass shortage of E's, I even got a card with hologram cat faces on the front in which I wrote some pretty deep stuff!
In the weeks beforehand I let a few people know of my plans, there's no better anti-bottle out clause than saying it out loud to actual real life people!

Then it was just time to wait, it's my week off so I'm at home all day. So I waited for my boyfriend to get home, but I got a phonecall, he's at his parents, then another, what's for tea? erm, maybe spaghetti letters.
Pretty much two hours late, he returned home. I'll be honest, I'd had a glass of wine for my nerves, I'm not even a wine drinker, but that's all we had.
An hour or so later I seized the moment and while he was making a brew I moved all the stuff into the front room. The rings, card, cake and gift. Naturally, through male blinkeredness, he only saw the cake, read it really quick said 'I cannot' then took it into the bloody kitchen so the cats didn't try and get it!
So, another failed proposal.

Or was it? When he came back the atmosphere changed as he noticed the line of other bits styled up nicely on the coffee table. The next few moments are a bit of a blur to me now, a mix of joy, excitement and relief. Yeah, I got my yes! Finally, he said YES! We are now engaged to be married.

As I write this I am still not convinced it really happened. Also at the back of my mind is a rising dread of what this now means; me, in a wedding dress being looked at and the centre of attention. As a mass introvert this fills be with absolute terror. But, this is the man for me, there's nothing I want more than to be his wife. Maybe everyone at the Church will agree to being blindfolded and not look at or interact with me until we're all milling around slightly tipsy at our wedding party.

God, I'm weird, but we got there in the end. Forget forty days, I've smashed a decade!
Rating ~ Can I wear a blue dress?

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