The Day I Want To Remember

It wasn’t anything like the books, mind you.

No candle lit dinner or stargazing;

No wine, and definitely no getting down on one knee.

It was outside my work.

My back hurt, my head hurt;

I was tired.

I wanted to go home and just sleep,

Maybe eat some sweets

(It was that kind of a day).

He was grinning and blushing;

Fumbling over words

And folding his fingers together like some sort of complicated puzzle.

“Remember how I said that if I asked you to marry me that it’d be a long engagement?” he started.

I nodded and grinned.

I knew what you were going to ask before you even fumbled with the ring box.

I said yes before you even finished that sentence.

And when you opened the box, I laughed

Because the damn thing was upside down.

You slid the ring on, worried that it wouldn’t fit.

It did.

You didn’t have anything to worry about

Because my answer was always yes.

It was yes then, and it’s still yes now.

Because I love you, plain and simple.

That’s it.

That’s the day that I want to remember.