A Prelude to a Wedding

I cannot remember the first time he proposed to me or how many times he had asked the question after.

During our courtship stage, he would always ask me questions out of nowhere. I would comment on how beautiful his view of the park is and he would answer “would you come live with me?”.  He waits for every opportunity, for every opening where he could let me picture a life with him. Of course, I would dismiss it as mere lip service, or perhaps a boldness that he could only muster because he is on the opposite side of the globe talking to me. Eventually, he asked me outright if I would marry him, to which I answered, “ask me in person”.

One day, he asked me about my ideas for a ring.  He doesn’t like surprises. He is not one to buy anything and surprise me with it. He’d rather ask me exactly what I want and give me that, because he wants to make sure that each gift is truly appreciated and is what I like.  Being the practical woman that I am, I told him I’d rather have something with my birthstone (a more reasonable option than the traditional ring) and he even asked me to send pictures for reference.

He came to see me again during the summer. As he always does, he had with him things for the house, and gifts for me that we have spoken about before.  The day went on but as nighttime fell, he told me that he had one last gift for me. We were in our room. He said that he would have given the last item to me during our trip outside the country, which was happening in a few days, but couldn’t really wait ’til then. He reached into his bag and brought out something and opened the small, black box that contained a lovely ring, exactly how I described it!  And he asked me again if I would marry him and slipped the ring on my finger.  It was just like that, very intimate, no fanfare and yet full of promise of what was to come.



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