Waiting…
The wait is excruciating! No one is dying. No accident has occurred. No pending doom looms in the distance. I’m just waiting…anticipating…dreaming…and waiting some more. Waiting for him to ask a question, a ring to glisten, and my opportunity to enthusiastically answer, “HELL, YES! I LOVE YOU FIERCELY!!!” Of course, I intend to punctuate the moment with a kiss…or five…but, for now, I must wait…
Oh sure, this is the second time around for us both. I’m divorced. His wife died. Regardless, this feels like the first for me in so many ways. The anticipation is insane! Will he ask me this weekend? How will he propose? What will the ring look like? Truth be told, I just want him to ask. I epitomize the line from When Harry Met Sally, “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
“I want it to be a surprise and be special,” John tells me. So do I…but I’m ready to be surprised!
When my now ex husband proposed, he paused a movie, casually asked me to marry him, and showed me the ring with little fanfare or flourish. “If you mean it, get down on one knee,” I said. He did. Despite the lack of excitement and romance, I said, “Yes!” We kissed and called our families. When I suggested that we finish the movie, he admitted that he had proposed at that moment in hopes of not needing to watch the rest. Seriously!?! I should have known at that moment…I should have known…
When John proposed to Melissa he meticulously planned out the evening. First, he asked her father for permission. (Nice…thoughtful…traditional…I LOVE IT!) He took her on a dinner cruise along the Missouri River. Sure, they were one of only two young couples aboard, but the evening was still romantic. After their cruise, he took her to their favorite park bench. The one at which they had eaten ice cream after their workdays. He knelt down and took her hand as she implored him to “get up, get up, get up” (though, she certainly didn’t really want him to). After he asked and she said, “Yes!” he went to the car and produced a bottle of champagne and two glasses so that they could celebrate as the sun set. Contrast!?! You betcha’!
Understandably, I want and need this time to be full of surprises and special touches …but I remain impatient.
We’ve been dating for nearly a year and a half now. John hints that we will be engaged by springtime, married in the summer, and settled into our new home before the new school year. Knowing this doesn’t stop me from “fishing” for details and dates. I’m shameless. How uncharacteristic of me!
“Here’s the answer to your question,” I said as I dropped a white candy heart into his hand with “Yes” imprinted in bright pink.
“Yeah! Why don’t you keep this until I ask,” he said as he handed it back to me.
“Well, it might go stale by then.” Coy? Not exactly. Playful? Oh sure. Fishing? Damn straight!
“Nah…it’ll be just fine.”
My heart leapt! My mind began to “do the mental math”…again…who am I kidding…
Waiting…impatiently…imperfectly…immensely excited about the future…
Anticipating…
As February slips away, I begin to wonder…when will he propose?
Renee, my friend and hairstylist, listens to my endless gushing about John while she colors and cuts my hair. She takes personal pride in my transformation from harried housewife and homeschool Mom to spunky, sexy single lady. I know that she takes her time not only because she cares about my appearance but, also, because we are dear friends and she thrills at knowing “the latest.” Over the months, she took out the gray and helped me grow out my once painfully short hairstyle, which I hated but was “too polite” to protest about to my last hairstylist. (I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.) Now we’ve finally gotten it the way we like it—long layers, chestnut brown with hints of ginger and gold (well, some hints are “louder” than others), long bangs, and a length that hits just a bit below the shoulders. We agree that John can pop the question now that my hair looks great. If only it were that simple…
“Do you think he’ll ask you on Valentine’s Day?” she asked during my last visit.
“I don’t know. I hope so…wouldn’t that be wonderful!?!”
“Well, girl, you need to work on your hands…coconut oil. Every night, rub coconut oil on your hands and then wear gloves while you sleep. That’ll make your hands soft and look wonderful!” Right. I don’t wear gloves; instead, I wear fluffy socks. It works well, and no one but me knows how ridiculous I look while sleeping.
“Don’t neglect your nails either,” she tells me. So now I give myself a manicure every Thursday night in anticipation of potential surprises over the weekend. “Hey, there will be photographs taken of your hands,” she reminds me. “I want those Facebook photos to look great!”
Has John noticed these subtle changes in my appearance and behavior? He tells me that he loves my hair, especially “the way it falls across my face.” He regularly comments on my warm, soft hands. He admires my polished nails. He’s quite observant…and I do intend to maintain my appearance throughout the years for myself and him; however, after we’re married, I might cut back on the weekly manicures and will likely stop wearing socks on my hands at night…after all, I’d rather hold his hand…but there I go anticipating again…
Dreaming…
Valentine’s Day is this weekend! Yes, that’s the PERFECT night for a proposal…romance is in the air after all.
Accepting his proposal on Valentine’s Day would be doubly special for us since that is the 22nd anniversary of our disputed first date. Disputed? Well…
“It was Valentine’s Day! Of course it was a date.” John argues. He had asked me to accompany him to an amazing restaurant complete with piano bar.
He’d invited me saying, “All the guys will be there with their girlfriends and fiancés. I’d love to go, but you know I’m not seeing anyone.” Date.
But wait! Here is where room for debate is found. “Would you like to go with me? Just as friends?” he continued. Ah ha! “Just as friends…”
In a fun-loving manner, we conduct an unofficial and ongoing poll of our friends; votes tend to come down along gender lines.
“It was Valentine’s Day! Of course it was a date!” the men argue. “Did he pay?”
“Yes.”
“Date.” One point for the guys.
The women then chime in, “But, he said, ‘just as friends’…that negates everything!” Score one point for the ladies.
“Was there kissing involved?”
“No.” Crickets…
“Oh…” Both agree…that’s not a good sign.
Though the story is fun to tell and the poll always brings smiles and laughter, I’ll confess that I have conceded. After all, I kind of like the idea of our first date being so romantic. Our second (our first kiss), third (a romantic park bench), fifth (an adventure in Leawood), and fifty-seventh (oh goodness, just cuddling on the couch) have been equally wonderful and romantic. Yes, when it comes to John, I am a HUGE mush…His presence thrills my heart!
Do I believe he’ll ask me on Valentine’s Day? No…I’ve hinted around, asked a lot of leading questions, and learned that he hasn’t even shopped for a ring yet. ACK!!!
Waiting some more…
“Tell me a secret,” John asked…the glow from the Christmas tree lights set a romantic tone as we cuddled beneath the tree.
Long pause…I don’t keep secrets from him. “Oh…hmmm,” I stall. “Right. My garage code is XMAS.”
“Nice.”
“So, now it’s your turn to tell me a secret.”
It didn’t take him nearly so long. “I have an idea that I really like.” I understood this cryptic sentence immediately. He has decided how he wants to propose. My heart leapt!
“Really…hmmm- so when do you think you’ll put this plan into action?” Again, I’m not exactly subtle these days.
“Oh no! I’m not telling you that.”
Does John know that he’s torturing me!?! To most people, two of my best friends included, it would look that way.
“Come on! You know that he is loving this! Who wouldn’t!?! He enjoys knowing that you are dying to marry him and eager to say ‘yes,’” Kate said.
I suppose. I almost believed her, but then I remembered who John is. He’s not a game player, and we’ve agreed to a “no bullshit” policy. Sure, he may be secretly (or not so secretly) enjoying my anticipation (what man wouldn’t?); however, he would never just toy with me and my affections for sport.
“When he does ask, you should let him dangle a bit.” Teresa tells me. She mimics me saying, “‘Oh gee, John, I don’t know…Can I get back to you?’”
“Nah, she won’t do it,” Kate responds. “She should, but she won’t.”
They’re right, I won’t; however, they’re wrong to think that I should…no bullshit means no bullshit, after all. John and I value that in our relationship and I would never violate that trust…especially not at that special moment. “No bullshit” in a relationship is so freeing!
Yes, I am overthinking this. Yes, I am driving myself crazy all on my own. Yes, I should just relax and enjoy this time…far easier said than done.
And waiting some more…
Valentine’s Day has now passed…no ring.
His reason? Well, it’s the perfect one…Valentine’s Day weekend was the anniversary of his first date with Melissa. Becoming engaged on that day would have been “wrong.”
So, when will it be? February 28? That’s our year and a half anniversary…guess I’ll just have to wait and find out…better get my roots done again…
*****
NOTE: John finally put Aimee out of her misery on February 27 when he proposed in a beautiful and special way. They married and blended their families on March 27…so now there are many more stories to tell!