It was Thursday, June 19th, 2014. I was looking forward to seeing all my friends and celebrating The Boyfriend’s birthday but at the same time I wasn’t looking forward to spending any time walking around because of my injured knee. I knew this wasn’t something I could bail on though, so I got ready to go to the party.
It had been a frustrating morning, the dress that I wanted to wear didn’t fit right and I ended up wearing capris instead. Once I got to the train station I realized it was cooler out than I had initially thought and wished I had worn pants instead. Then I noticed that my nails were all chipped. I complained to The Boyfriend because I had just done them myself a few days beforehand. Grudgingly I got out of the car to head into work, a black cloud over my head.
At work I got a text from The Boyfriend. He told me that I should get my nails done on my lunch break to cheer myself up – his treat. I thought it was super sweet of him but declined his offer since I never get my nails done in the city and wouldn’t want to miss eating lunch. Upon reflecting on his generosity I thought could this be it? Is he planning on proposing? This being the day of his party I knew it wouldn’t be today. Maybe he has something planned over the weekend? I couldn’t pinpoint when he would do it, so I decided to indulge in gels – it was his treat after all. I still thought that paying $40 for a manicure was excessive; especially since a regular non-gel one is $14 at the place I wanted to go. But, I wanted my nails to look nice for two weeks (as is the promise with gel manicures) so I decided it was worth the indulgence. Luckily, I got off work early and called Uber for a ride to the place.
I got in the Uber car and my heart was pounding. Could it really be happening? Maybe I should tell the Uber guy? I decided against it, after all, I didn’t want to jinx anything and there have been plenty of times that I thought it was going to happen and it didn’t. So I keep my mouth shut. I get to the salon and sit down to be pampered. Maybe I should tell the manicurist. After all, I’m here because it might be happening soon. But again, I decide to keep my mouth shut. No point in getting all excited about something that could be happening in the next few days. Plus the woman I got only spoke snippets of English and I didn’t want to get into it. My mind was racing the whole time the manicurist was working. Still, I didn’t let my hopes get up too high.
When my nails are done I text The Boyfriend to pick me up. Once in the car, we head over to the vet to pick up Dib-Kitty who had to have his teeth cleaned. Poor kitty was not happy with us. On our way to pick him up The Boyfriend informs me that Dib-Kitty needs to stay in isolation for 24 hours to keep track of how he is recovering. So I suggest that we stop at the store to pick up a disposable litter box. The Boyfriend gives me a look, but stops anyway and I tell him he should pick up Gatorade as well. After all, it’s his birthday party and overindulgence in drinks is a very likely situation. I wanted him to have something to help with his likely hangover tomorrow morning.
We get home and The Boyfriend sets up Dib-Kitty’s isolation in my library while I get changed. I give Zim-Kitty his medication (that is supposed to make him less of a jerk but isn’t working as of yet) and prepare all the kitty food with Gir-Kitty meowing obnoxiously loud. I feed everyone and at this point my parents have arrived. I ask Crazy Lady to help me move the books on the floor of the library onto the shelves. After all – Dib-Kitty just had his teeth cleaned and a possible side effect of this is vomiting. I don’t want cat vomit on my books. Books are precious. So Crazy Lady and I work on putting the books on the shelves as quickly as possible. The Boyfriend shouts up the stairs to tell us that it is time to go. I hurriedly put the last few books on the shelf and hobble down the stairs.
We get to Murphy’s, our favorite bar, and settle in. I decide that I am up to the challenge of an open bar ($25 for four hours) and get started off the bat with vodka tonic. We order food and dig in as our friends continue to spill into the bar. At one point, The Boyfriend tells me that our friend lost his keys on the walk to the bar and he would have to go help look for them. At another point, I go sit near my friend (previously referred to as The Bride) and she tells me that her man stepped out for a minute. These two incidents are connected but I didn’t notice at the time.
Then, with 2.5 vodka tonics in my system plus some pig wings, The Boyfriend stands in front of all our friends and asks for everyone’s attention. He starts off by thanking everyone for coming. I start clapping and yell “Yay, Happy Birthday!” Then he asks if everyone can go outside for a minute. Confused, I get up and follow everyone out. When I get outside, I see a keyboard set up and a chair near it. I’m told to sit in the chair because of my knee. At this point, I still don’t really know what is going on.
I sit in the chair. The Boyfriend sits at the keyboard. He starts to play a song that sounds familiar but I don’t know the name of (later I found out he played the first bit of “Still D.R.E.”). Then, he starts to play “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney. It is only when he is playing our song that I realize that it’s really happening. The Boyfriend, who does not know how to play piano, has learned how to play our song in secret. He plays part of it, his hands shaking the whole time. Then he gets down on his knee and asks me to marry him. Tears streaming down my face, I say yes.
It was a week ago today that he asked me. I still can’t stop gazing at my ring. I still can’t stop thinking about how he did it. How amazing he is. How surprised I was. And how ready I am to call myself his wife. I need to give him a new nickname; he is no longer The Boyfriend. I now dub him Future Husband with a smile on my face.