Apologue #40: That One Time I Got Proposed

This one used to be a painful memory but is now considered a funny memory and a tale all my best friends enjoy hearing. Mind you, I’m not one of those people that go parading around town that I’ve been engaged once before but had to call off the wedding. It’s definitely something that is embarrassing, painful, and downright my business that you don’t have to criticize about. But let’s make it something that could “happen” to any of us gals.

My proposal was far from romantic but hardcore memorable. I will never be able to forget it. To this day, I still wonder why I said yes even though I ended up calling it off. I guess love really does make you blind.

I was about nineteen years old, give or take and was finishing up my freshman year in college. At the time, my boyfriend was in the military and constantly on leave. In the three and a half years that I have dated him, we’ve spent more time apart than we were actually together. Most of our relationship amounts up to instant messaging conversations at odd hours trying to catch each other (when he was stationed both in Iraq and Afghanistan) or e-mail each other as if they were like love letters. Skype hadn’t been invented yet and being able to catch him by phone was out of the question. Our relationship was built on a foundation of trust and respect for one another to have lasted so long.

But I can’t help but be honest that since we’ve had such a distance physically, there are of course, many times where we had awkward moments. This proposal was definitely one of them.

It was the third day since he got back from Iraq and he insisted that he wanted to cook me a nice dinner himself. I could tell he was trying to be romantic but I had no idea what he was planning. Long story short, there were flowers and candles everywhere and he got down on one knee and proposed the classic way I would have liked, like from any movie from the fifties.

The funny thing was the ring. Ladies, I’m not picky when it comes to the ring. Honestly, I hear about those 4 important “C’s” when it comes to picking out your ring and I don’t even know what they are. I’m not even embarrassed to admit it. But you know how people say you “know” when you see the right ring? Boy, ain’t that the truth.

When I saw the ring he got, I was literally speechless. The diamond was hefty. That wasn’t the problem. He personally designed it and had it custom made the way he wanted it (didn’t even know you could that), and it was painfully horrendous. Of course, I didn’t say anything to him directly, but it was definitely a ring I wouldn’t wear in public. Gentleman, as lovely and sincere, of the idea of you personalizing our ring to make it the only ring in the world is romantic, but unless you’re a designer, let’s leave it with the jewelers. I’m not trying to be mean, but really, this is the ring we’ll be wearing on our finger the rest of our lives till we die. It doesn’t have to be a rock, it doesn’t have to be an ice rink where my friends and I can go ice skating in. Let’s keep it normal.

But as fate would put it, the Heavens were on my side that night. The ring, didn’t properly fit. It was a size too small. I had no idea what size my ring finger was, so how could he? He did get awfully close though. When I asked how he did it, this will be the part I am contemplating whether to tell my kids and grand-kids in the future about.

He knew I had chubby fingers and I used to complain to him about it often. So he knew a typical 5 or 6 would just not do, but was still very lost when looking at so many sizes at the jewelers. He had to make a wild guess but didn’t know how to do it. He confessed that the day before the purchase he was at the grocery store and was in the hot dog isle and placed his bet that maybe, JUST MAYBE, this might work.

OH. MY. GAWD.

I screamed with laughter so hard I couldn’t breathe right for four days. To make me feel better, he did say that he ended up going with the skinny hot dogs that fit the length of the whole bun compared to the regular ball park hot dogs. But nonetheless, I will forever be the girl that got proposed with a ring that fits on a hot dog. I’m glad the ring didn’t fit because of the skinny dogs he chose to go with but can you imagine the horror and the endless stories if he chose the ball parks and that ring did fit??

This is exactly why I should never get married. 😀

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