Well, it finally happened. I’ve waited 30 years for this big moment. I remember being 6 years old and sitting in my room, writing fake wedding invitations for my big day. I even remember staging fake weddings when my parents would go out. I’d record ceremony scenes from my favorite movies on my yellow Sony boom box so I could exchange the “proper vows” with my fake husband. I’d put on my whitest clothes, tie my hair up, and put on my mom’s red lipstick. I’m also pretty sure on the nights of my fake weddings I would welcome my baby doll into my new family. Things moved pretty quickly back then. Thankfully, there’s no real baby doll today.
So … how did it happen?Well, I had been expecting it to happen before my birthday. And since my birthday is next week, I knew it would be any day now. We were already being unconventional, because I had picked out the ring with my mom over a month ago. I know, I know. The guy is supposed to surprise you. But I never wear jewelry, and wanted it to be something I love. I’m sentimental like that.
I thought it was going to happen last weekend. So every night, I blow-dried my hair, got my nails done, and tried to look halfway decent. When it didn’t happen then, I was pretty sure it was just going to happen on my birthday. But, instead, it happened last night.
Our gay neighbors down the hall texted me: “Mexican tonight. You can’t say no. Tell [Future Husband’s name].”
Normally, we are pretty lazy and always cancel plans, but future husband wanted to go. I started getting suspicious when gay neighbor and Future Husband mentioned going to the same place. Coincidence? Or proposal?
I drove with my neighbors to the Mexican restaurant, which was in a strip mall. I thought, “Please, God, don’t let it happen here.” And it didn’t.
We all finished our hamburger helper fajitas and $1.99 margaritas and headed back to our neighbor’s apartment for a nightcap. As soon as we got there, the s**t hit the fan … almost literally.
Future Husband said he had to go back to our apartment to go to the bathroom. “Bad Mexican.”
“Well, it’s definitely not happening tonight,” I thought. Instead, I’ll be wiping the bathroom walls down.
Twenty minutes later he came back to the neighbor’s apartment.
“How’d it go?” I asked.
“Mmmm. Not good. I think I need to call it a night.”
The s**t police clearly needed to be notified.
“Well, I’m going to stay here and finish my drink,” I said.
Future Husband’s response was: “Actually, do you mind coming back with me?”
Surely this wasn’t for wiping duty?
So we walked back to the apartment. And as we did, I saw a smile creep across Future Husband’s face. And not an “I have diarrhea” kind of smile.
As he opened the door, I knew something was up. I walked into the apartment, which had been covered with candles and flowers all over the floor. They were making a pathway towards our dining room table, which had candles and a ring box on it. Future Husband said, “Come this way.”
Oh my God. This was it.
The rest is a little bit of a blur. I know he opened up the ring box (containing the beautiful ring I’d seen before), and sweetly asked me if I would be his wife. I jumped up and down and smiled and giggled and said yes. Then I kissed him.
Thirty years in the making, and I didn’t shed a tear.
I think because I’ve been so anxious about it and knew it was going to happen, I kind of just wanted it to happen already. When it did, I was relieved. Now I could stop blow-drying my hair and shaving my legs every goddamn day.
And now, I have a Future Husband and a new friend. Who, you might ask?
Well, it’s Estelle. My new diamond engagement ring. Say hello to my new little lady.