Yeah, I crack myself up.
I don't know what it is, but people love hearing a good love story, and I suppose "with his mouth" does nothing to quench the insatiable thirst of hopeless romantics. (I should know; I am one.) Of course, as a writer, I love a good love story too, and this is one story I couldn't leave alone, especially because it's MY love story. :)
Two Weeks Ago...
We had plans to go into the canyon Friday night, up to Sundance Resort for dinner. Our Saturday plans included meeting up with 3 other couples for a date night. We had a fun, busy weekend ahead.
The Man was thinking it just might be the weekend to propose. The Man also knew I'd been waiting, like For.Ever. for this little 4-word question to be popped (indicative with several not-so-subtle hints in the preceding weeks). Of course, he wanted the "bling" to sweeten the deal (like I'd say no), cuz we all know that if some chick says she's engaged and she doesn't have a ring to show for it, all of the other chicks are all, "MmmHmm. She ain't gettin' may-reed. He ain't give her no ring yet. Srsly." And, well, he didn't want that for me.
However, Mother Nature had other plans. Thanks to an awful snow storm that Thursday, the opportunity to purchase and surprise me with a ring before that weekend were fast fleeting.
Friday night the snow let up just enough for us to make it into the canyon. The atmosphere was beautiful in spite of the chill and I admit, I couldn't help thinking this was the perfect night for him to pop the question. And though we had many sweet exchanges that evening, a proposal wasn't one of them.
After getting back so late Friday night, I don't think either one of us woke before noon on Saturday. We hung out a little bit in the afternoon working on some of my family's genealogy
Following dinner, the couples all came back to The Man's house for games. We had fun laughing, playing and eating dessert, though I'm not gonna lie - I was Tired, with a capital T. I don't know about you, but there is something about freezing, snowy weather that seems to suck the life right outta me.
Around midnight, the last of the couples left. I was exhausted. My back hurt. My eyelids began to droop and I knew it was only a matter of time before my words would become incoherent and spittle would begin forming at the corners of my mouth.
The Man agreed to rub my back which eventually led to us sitting on the floor in his living room, basking in the long-awaited still of night. Me, enveloped in his warm embrace, my head on his shoulder, enjoying the peaceful, restful moment; that moment just before the diabolical drool-patch began its slow-drip and my RLS triggered the Jimmy-Legs. I was completely oblivious to his state of mind. Perhaps he had a surge of courage and decided to ask before his fears stepped in again. Perhaps he decided, ring or no ring, he didn't want to wait anymore. Perhaps he was overcome with emotion and couldn't stop the words from rolling off his tongue. Perhaps he just felt the moment was right.
His lips gently brushed the apple of my cheek as he whispered, "I love you." Then, just before my eyes rolled into the back of my head, his lips grazed my ear ever-so softly, quietly forming the words, "Will you marry me?"
Spell? Broken. Exhaustion? Over. Sitting-Up Straight and Snapping To!
"Yes!" I exclaimed, physically restraining myself to avoid blurting out, "When?"
Much merriment in the forms of foolish grins and giddy school-girl laughter ensued. My death-choke of a hug around his body didn't seem enough to convey my emotions that very moment. I felt almost foolish for trying to quantify something which has no bounds. How can one possibly express the inexpressible?
True, he did not have a ring. True, he did not bend down on one knee. True, it wasn't in a fancy setting with a romantic ambiance. Nevertheless, it came from the man I love, delivered with most genuine of heart in the most tender of ways, allowing me to glimpse the depths of his love for me.
It was MY proposal,