The Proposal

Continuing the countdown to my sixteenth wedding anniversary, I am of course, thinking of the steps that got us here.

When Jay got off his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, things were a little awkward. Lots of girls "wait" for their missionary with disastrous results. Some find true love while their missionary is gone. Some wait and have high expectations when the missionary returns, only to find everything gone wrong, and things failing. I decided I wasn't going to play that game. I told Jay I wasn't waiting for him, and we'd see what happened when he got back. I dated without guilt, and had a few close relationships, but nothing that I was willing to commit to forever. I was still available when Jay returned.

I hadn't stopped dating for him, and I felt it was only fair that he date other people when he got back rather than just committing himself to me. He dated plenty, but mostly he dated me. That was when things got hard. I was pretty much head over heels in love, and would paint a smiling face on when he said he had a date with another girl. All the while, I was really wondering if this date would be the one where he realized he liked her better than he liked me. A couple of months passed. I was pretty sure he liked me best, because we were still going out, but he'd still have dates with other girls. Finally, I just couldn't stand the pressure. We were spending the day together, while Jay had a date with a mutual friend that night. I was thinking about things, and finally, I just asked:

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Um...yeah?" He clearly was nervous about what I might be asking him.

"Are you going to ask me to marry you?"

"...Probably...not this month!"

"Well, when you ask, I'll say yes."

And that was it. The proposal. I had asked him. I ruined his date that night, and sparked off some very serious thinking. It was a month or so later that there was a very romantic night with a walk in the park, and him kneeling on fallen leaves to give the real and official proposal. The answer really was yes. It was a few weeks after that under a streetlight on a cold evening with Christmas lights blinking on the houses around us that I had a ring slipped on my finger.

But really, I had asked him.

I'd do it again, too.