Ten years
Ten years. That’s how long ago I said “yes” to a surprise proposal that I’d truthfully (read: absurdly) been anticipating every moment of every day for two years already, right up until the afternoon prior.
(NB we got engaged like two weeks after our two year anniversary, which means, yes, I’d been pretty confident about our future for about as long as I’d actually been convinced that we were in fact dating, and that this wasn’t some horrid joke or cruel misunderstanding.)
So this charmingly unromantic man popped the question in a charmingly unromantic way, and five and a half months later I married him. Just in the nick of time, too - and by that I mean a scant year or so before Pinterest found its spot in the sun.
It’s not difficult to be certain when it’s about someone like him. He puts everyone around him at ease. He makes everyone laugh, but I make him laugh the hardest. He doesn’t know how to cry but he understands that I do, and he knows how to help when my tears won’t stop.
(Spoiler alert: turns out they always do, eventually.)
He remains unromantic (perhaps moreso unapologetic but still by all counts charmingly so) and I remain unreasonable (perhaps moreso irascible but still by all counts charmingly so).
We’re just getting started.
