Friend: "Do you remember that one time so and so was out of town and...."
Me: "AND we broke into her house and the radio in her living room was turned to Yanni and someone was ACTUALLY staying there at the moment!?"
That's how I remember. Otherwise, the memory is buried.
I don't want to forget our engagement story.
I'm going to start with the year or so leading up to the engagement because I swear, I thought for a year straight that I would be engaged at any moment of the day or night.
Brian and I were always, for the most part, on the same page about getting married. We weren't trying to be. We were in love and happy with the way things were playing out. Maybe a part of me was scared to get wifed up because that is some serious grown-up shit. I think Brian felt the same way - WAY too grown up for us. About two years prior to our engagement, we went to go look at rings. I think I had decided "I can definitely do this. Why not?" I don't know if I had Brian fully convinced or not, but like the good man he is, he humored me and off we went.
And I found my ring.
In the car the next day, I'm excited. I'm thinking "Oh, shit. I'm about to be engaged like, any minute." I started talking crazy. Talking like I was ALREADY engaged. I'm thinking of time lines, locations, good dates, bridesmaids, budgets. Everything. I turned into that lunatic. The only thing I was missing was the binder of wedding ideas that I'd been compiling since birth (I don't really have one of those).
Oh, and a ring.
Brian was quick to deliver a swift punch in the gut. Wind? Out of sails. Basically, I had to PUMP.MY.BREAKS.
Time passed and I thought about my ring. Just waiting for me. Key dates passed and still, nothing. *Sigh*
About a year before we were engaged, I delivered an ultimatum. Though, I'm not sure I'd call it an ultimatum as I didn't actually give a consequence. I knew I wasn't going anywhere and I knew that I would be crazy to leave this man because he wasn't ready to marry me. CRAZY. But, I laid it out. I said, "I'd like to be engaged by March 2009."
Who does that?
He seemed to be on board with that so I felt it was cool to let myself get a jump on things. Started researching, looking at dresses - everything. I even went to a BRIDAL SHOW. Someone tell me that is not insane? I had to make up a FAKE WEDDING DATE. I still get calls from random vendors congratulating me on my wedding. The best part is telling them I'm not married. They immediately get quiet and say in the most fake sympathetic way "Ohhhh. I'm soooorrryyyy." I love getting those calls.
March 2009 approaches. I get a manicure. I'm not trying to show my ring off with busted nails.
March 2009 passes.
August 2009 approaches. This is our 5 year anniversary.
This has to be it. We have reservations at the place we had our first real, grown up date, five years is a milestone year and we've discussed getting engaged (I've discussed, Brian has listened) since my deadline passed months ago. My friends have set up a girls night out the next day. So....
I get a manicure. Because..you know.
All night, all night, all NIGHT I am studying Brian. Is he nervous? Is that sweat? Are his hands shaking? Is he taking long bathroom breaks? Does he keep checking his pants pocket? ALL NIGHT. We make friends with the waiter and we tell him it is our anniversary. Now, I don't typically just offer that sort of stuff up. I don't like people to think I'm trying to get stuff for free - not my style - but Brian is a chatty guy so he let's his mouth go sometimes. Obviously, I ignore that fact about him and think "He totally is setting something up with our waiter."
After a delicious dinner, I start to notice that the wait staff is congregating pretty close to our table. I'm looking around, wondering if someone is having a birthday - because you know how they get together to sing at that poor birthday boy or girl - and I notice that they are lighting up some sparklers.
And then it hit me.
I'm about to get ENGAGED UP IN THIS BITCH!
I instantly start shaking and sweating. Eyes start darting. I'm looking at Brian. Watching his hands, watching his hands, watching his hands.
Nothing.
This fool looks like it really IS his birthday, such is his joy at getting a free dessert from our attentive waiter.
Another manicure for nothing.
At this point, I'm all "Fuck it. Let's live like Goldie and Kurt." I'm convincing myself that I can live life as we've been living it. What is marriage anyway? We live together. We share responsibility for three dogs together. We eat dinner with one another almost every night. I know how he likes to sleep at night. I wash, dry and fold his clothes. He will go out and warm up my car for me on the extra cold mornings, before his first cup of coffee. When I'm watching my trash television, he sits in the same room with me and I like to believe it's not just because that television is in the living room. He'll bring his work downstairs. When he's watching his television, I'll read my book in the same room - just to be around him. We grocery shop together. And separately. And I always know what snacks to get him. And what brand of pizza. I know exactly what it means when he sits next to me on the couch and he turns is back and leans forward. He almost always knows what I want when I say, in that nagging way, "baaaaabbbeeeeeee?" If marriage means me telling him every other day that he needs to take his clothes off UPSTAIRS and NOT in the kitchen, him reminding me to put the cap back on the toothpaste, me sending him a text message to pick up soda, him telling me to "be careful, sweetheart" ever.single.time I leave the house, me telling him that I'm pretty sure someone else already owns the patent on that particular invention you hope to create, thus making us MILLIONS....
....then we are already married.
Summer comes and goes and from time to time, I think that a ring is definitely coming. It's not something that consumes me every day, but like I said, from time to time I really think about it. The holidays approach and thus begins the endless cycle of holiday obligations. It's a crazy time. For anyone.
On Christmas day, Brian and I held the annual Christmas Day Breakfast at our house. My mom, sister, brother and nephew were all over. Immediately after that, we had a nice brunch with Brian's sister, brother-in-law and nephew, followed by a visit out to my cousin's house out in Palatine. It was a long, long day. Brian and I walk into the house to a chorus of angry, frantic barking. The usual welcome home from our brood who are undoubtedly starving and ready for a bathroom break. I walk up the stairs, ready to put my sleepy clothes on when Brian says " Honey, come downstairs. I have to show you something." This should have been my clue that shit done changed. But I was tired. Whether he knew I'd have my guard down or not, I don't know, but the timing was perfect on his part. My first instinct was to ask him if it could wait until tomorrow. My second instinct told me to just go down there, humor him and get it over with.
I walk into the garage with a bad attitude. I'm mad that this dude made me walk all the way downstairs at 10 p.m. on Christmas after such a long day. I'm all "WHAT? What do you have to show me? Out with it." I walk over to the make-shift table and he walks around to the back of Big Sexy (he's our big, obnoxious television that we got on craigslist for football purposes). Everything happens really fast after that.
My inner voice is all:
What is he saying?
What is in his hand?
Is that...?!
IS HE ON ONE KNEE?!
That's my ring!?
Say yes, SAY YES.
And I said yes. In our garage. On the one day of the year I asked not to be proposed to on.
And it was perfect.
I wish I could remember everything he said to me. But there was no way I could stop the blood from rushing to my head and making my ears ring. It doesn't even really matter what he said because I heard the important part.
And I plan to hold him to it.
FOR.EV.ER.
i love it. :)
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