A Modest Proposal

Once upon a time, a college boy with round-rimmed glasses fixed the computer of his next door septum ring-ed neighbor. Thrilled that her beloved MP3's, stolen through Napster, were safely returned to her, the pair struck up a conversation while beers and buffalo chicken fingers were passed around them. Discovering they both shared a love of gory horror films, they stayed up watching Candyman while those on less destined paths went to sleep. Sometime around when the main character is dying a horrible death by fire, they shared their first kiss.

I would love to tell you this romantic moment had nothing to do with alcohol, but instead was love at first sight. But this ain't no fairy tale, folks. Dave and I spent a good deal of time taking turns avoiding and hating eachother just as much as we spent loving eachother during our courtship. Yet somehow, even with four American states of distance lying between us, we just couldn't seem to get rid of eachother. Time and time again we found ourselves facing eachother with shrugging shoulders, daring the other one not to give in and change just enough so that the other would stay. Little by little, we met somewhere in the middle, each of us emerging a new person everytime we decided to stick with it and try again.


So no, it's not a fairy tale, but damned if that's not what REAL LOVE STORIES are made of. After all, isn't it the stories of people willing to sacrifice and to fight and to hold on no matter what that ultimately end in some kind of happily ever after? Just because I'm a realist doesn't mean there isn't romance to be found in reality.


I digress. Thank you for sticking with me this far. Yes, this is actually a blog meant to chronicle the one and only time I will ever get married. Let's begin with the proposal.


Three weeks ago on Thanksgiving, Dave and I were sitting around my aunt's dinner table with the rest of my family. We have been spending our Thanksgivings this way for the past nine years, ever since the first weekend I brought him to meet my family my sophomore year of college. I was feeling miserable, having eaten to the point of making myself sick. Adding to my general feeling of yuckiness, my father couldn't seem to get the video camera out of my face. (Later, of course, I would learn that he was in on the surprise.) Just as I was erupting into a tirade of irritation, Dave pushed back from the table, stood up, and said, "Okay, I'm tired of waiting." At this point he turned to me and said, "Niela, I love you so much." As the realization of what was happening sunk in, my breath slowed although my heartrate picked up. Noting my silence, Dave felt the need to ask, "I think you love me, right?"



My memory is fuzzy, but I believe I managed to stutter out something along the lines of, "Duuuuuh, yeah..."


Here is where he pulled out the ring, got down on one knee, and in front of my whole family on a Thanksgiving I will never forget, he asked me to be his wife.


And I said yes.