If you missed out on the first part of the love story, you can catch up here:
I had been in relationships that were too much work. I worried when the guy didn’t call or when he did and I had nothing to say. I was constantly worried about what I did or said. Either I was trying too hard or that other guy was proposing on the first date. Was there no happy medium? Love shouldn’t be so hard, as I discovered with my new guy. The relationship settled into a routine and it was as comfortable as a cashmere sweater. I've never owned a cashmere sweater, but being with him was as soft, perfect and luxurious as I imagine the sweater would be.
This guy was so great and he did nice things for me all the time. Like have dinner waiting for me when I returned home late from work. Or when he postponed his family’s trip to his cousin’s wedding because it was over my birthday weekend. He took me out to breakfast the day before my birthday and gave me a Fossil watch. He picked it out with the help of my sister and her friend at the Mier and Frank department store where she worked. Another time he drove me to my Biology field trip at 6am in Salem so that I wouldn’t have to drive home by myself. He met up with me in the mountains at the end of the field trip later in the day and we went to stay with my family for the weekend.
I did nice things for him too. Like make a mixed tape for him, only it was a mix-CD, the newest technology at the time. It had songs like, “Coyboy Take Me Away,” and “This Kiss, this Kiss.” I had my sister take a picture of me with her new digital camera and we printed out a CD cover with my charming picture, strangely stretched out of proportion. I bought him expensive clothes because that is how I show my love. We were figuring out how perfect a relationship could be when both people are giving 100% each.
By October it seemed like we had been together forever and I didn’t wan to imagine life without him. Our dating history stretched back almost 2 whole months, yet I felt like I knew him better than anyone else in my life. I began to dream about the future and he was in it. I tenitively looked forward to the following year and maybe, just maybe, a Fall wedding…. I worked next door to Borders and I frequently looked at Bride’s magazine. Even though we had not exchanged the sacred, “I love you,” I knew he was in as deep as I was. But when would he propose? Maybe after Christmas. I knew he was the kind of guy to ask my dad to marry me, yet he had only seen my parents once during our short relationship. They didn’t make the 3 hours drive often and their next trip was for Christmas, 2 long months away. In the meantime, I just enjoyed what we had together. I knew we would end up married and grow old together – the idea was paradise itself. I was thrilled to my toes at the idea of our “someday.”
I am currently trying to get the love of my life to tell about "the proposal" from his perspective. It is way more fun than mine, since mine will read something like, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! I am so surprised. How did you do all this?" Stay tuned for more juicy details...