Here's the final installment of our engagement saga, originally written for an autobiography assignment in a writing class we took shortly after these events. Whew, who knew that posting this kind of sappy disclosure would practically give me hives?Thanks for indulging us. And you're welcome, posterity. :-)
Did you miss the start of the story? Here you go:
. . .
Annie's side of the story:
What have I done, I think, as we drive back through the canyon and past Bridal Veil Falls (the irony does not escape me). Have I blown it with him? Am I letting cerebral arguments and fears, passively absorbed through the years, interfere with what will really make me happy? I look over at Greg's profile as he concentrates on the canyon's curves, his hand on mine. Life with him will make me happy, I realize as an almost tangible sureness washes over me. But even so. Is this really the right timing?
My grandparents have asked that we feed their cat while they are away; these are the last few moments before Greg leaves for home. We park in front of the house and walk around to the back porch where the cat food is kept. I notice he leaves his duffel bag in the car, ready for the journey home. So that was it, I think. I notice I'm deeply disappointed. Interesting.
We sit down for a minute before his trek home.
"Annie?" he says. "I have a ring in my pocket."
"I know," I say stupidly. But I don't know. He has surprised me after all.
The notion that she already knows does not hit me because I am so worried about recovering from saying I have a ring in my pocket. She gulps and we talk about the implications of this decision. She still hasn't answered my question, I think to myself. How much longer is she going to drag this out?
I tell her of my great and glorious plans. I tell her about the proposal attempts at the mountain and the fountain. Her face changes and a determined look enters her eyes. "Well, let's go there then," she says. I look at her in disbelief.
"Uh...okay," I stammer. Great, I tell myself, another impeccable response uttered in the middle of the most important moment of my life. During the two minute drive to our destination, I focus on one thought: Would she drag me all the way to the fountain just to say no?
Nervous tension fills the air as we make our way from the car to the fountain. She sits down on the edge of the fountain and I kneel on one knee. When I look up, she smiles and I realize that she is going to say yes. I slowly release the ring from its cloth holster and take her hand. With as much courage as I can muster, I ask "Annie, will you marry me?"
I said (you guessed it) yes, yes, YES.
And so concludes the drawn-out saga of how I singlehandedly proposed to myself, alone in a dark parking lot in an old green Toyota corolla station wagon. And how it all worked out in the end. And it really, truly has.
(But, of course, it's just the start.)