*PLACEHOLDER POST, LONGER DISCUSSION ON THIS TO COME WHEN MY HEAD IS SETTLED*
Who: David. Me.
What: A Proposal.
Where: Our dining room, in the cottage we had moved into that day, surrounded by unpacked boxes and a hella lot of candles.
When: Sunday, 26th Feb 2017, early evening.
The Detail: “I’ve bought something from IKEA,” he said, “it’s the only thing I haven’t run by you.” “Hmmm,” I said. “I’m going to go into the dining room and set it up, don’t come in until I tell you to,” he said. “Hmmmm,” I said. “Close your eyes and I’ll guide you in,” he said. “Don’t walk me into the door,” I replied. He walked me into the doorframe. “Open your eyes,” he said. Candles everywhere. ‘Where is the furniture?’ I thought, slower than your average bear. “I found this amazing thing in London,” he said, “it was you.” “Oh my god,” on repeat. More words that didn’t convert to long term memory. Down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” “Yes.” “Yes?” “Yes.” “Which finger does it go on?” A diamond ring. A rapid heartbeat. A box containing at least a hundred tealights. No flat packed furniture I hadn’t helped to choose. Phone calls to family members. Sherlock on borrowed Blu Ray. Chinese food and wine in new tumblers. A fiance. The perfect engagement. ❤️️💍