craveytrain

Yeah, I know, creative title.

Well, I’ve done it now. I have signed the rest of my life away. And honestly, I really couldn’t be happier about it. I honestly sorta hope this giddiness wears off soon, cause it’s even annoying me. Don’t get me wrong, I love my fiancee very much, but the floating feeling for someone like me who is so traditionally grounded at first was a welcomed change. However, I am in some sort of heightened emotional state right now. Country songs I have listened dozens of times are making me mist up all of a sudden. I love being in a good mood and even though it compromises my machismo somewhat, I enjoy the sappiness. It’s the giggling. I am a guy, I am not supposed to giggle. Oh well, here’s to being a nancy boy…

Though I have told everyone who reads my blog (thank you for your patronage, both of you), if for no other reason, i would like to write the story out so that if anyone else asks, I can give them a URL. So, here it goes:

I had the ring, ready and waiting in hand. The girlie had been harassing me for seemingly years about taking her out on a picnic. So I tell her tuesday I have a surprise for her and not to go to the gym. To come straight home from work. Meanwhile, I took off at 3 from work and ran by Central Market. I picked up all sorts of picnic foodies, including a bottle of chapagne and a basket (I’m a guy, I don’t own a picnic basket). I get home before her and load up on some candles, silverware and wine glasses.

When she gets there, I am sitting in my car, engine running and the basket in the back covered up by a blanket. She gets in and is tortured by the fact I haven’t told her what the surprise is. She is constantly asking for information. I manage to keep my secrets close while I take an interesting route to Emma Long Park. We go in and right down to the water. There is no one there and I pull out the picnic basket. Until then, she had no idea what we were doing in the park. When she noticed the basket, I played it off as if I had finally conceded to her pleas of taking her on a picnic. She was apprehensively happy.

I pulled out all the food (making sure to leave the ring in my pocket and the bottle of champagne in a bag at the bottom of the basket). We ate our meal over light conversation, and I sat next to her, watching the sunset. I start trying to work the ring box out of my right pocket with her sitting on my left. Damned leather ring box, it’s not exactly sliding up the pocket of my jeans. Somewhere right before it was dark, she asks me Did you really go to Dallas yesterday?. Crap, she knows. Stall, What makes you ask?. She lets out a nervous laugh and says nothing for what seemed like an eternity. I think it was actually about 30 seconds. Then she asked again. I simply said No. Where did you go?. I simply smiled. I almost had that ring box out, she had no idea. She gives a nervous laugh and looked away from me. Free! The box was free! I quickly opened it and put it in front of her. She turned back around and saw it. She was frozen. She made no face, none at all.

I’ve got to blurt it out while I can still speak English. Go! Go! Go! Will you marry me? She starts giggling. That is quickly overcome with crying. She hugs me. She still hasn’t said anything even remotely english. Finally she regains her composure, sits up and tells me Yes. She then extends her hand. I don’t know who’s hand was shaking more, hers or mine. I finally get it on, sweet, she’s still a 6. She has been working out so much, I was really worried her ring size had gone down, so I made the saleslady promise me a free resizing if I needed it. I then pull out the champagne bottle and I barely get the wire cover off before the cork takes out a low flying plane above the park. We toast to our engagement and the start of a new life together. The sun is set and we are sitting there in the dark, just smiling.

So, without further ado, I present to you the girlie and now my fiancee, Erin Lark Sizemore (for now).

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 9th, 2006 at 5:11 pm and is filed under sharing, wedding. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.