So tonight my boyfriend of five weeks popped the question--"Will you marry me?"
Those must be four of the most stunning words in the entire world. Four words, five syllables, and an eternity of emotion and social commentary packed into no more than three seconds of vocal chord vibrations.
I was not expecting this at all. A week ago today (well, yesterday) I broke up with him. I told him that I didn't love him and that I didn't see us going anywhere. I had been wanting to do that for a few weeks because I had interests in other guys and I only saw him as a good friend. On Tuesday he took me to dinner at Red Lobster and we had a great time, so he started to come over to our apartment more often. Saturday he helped me go car shopping (sadly unsuccessful). And Sunday, after church and kidnapping my roommate to cheer her up, I went with him on a drive.
We had been sitting in his car talking for a while. I asked him what he was thinking. He said, "A question." I asked him what question, and he didn't say anything for a while. Knowing him and what was on his mind, I figured that that specific question was on his mind. However, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that he would actually ask me. He has asked me on other occasions if I could see us together, or if I think we would make a good pair. Everything pointing that way but nothing ever asking something of me.
So after he didn't say anything for a while, I figured that was the question on his mind and thought that right now I don't want to mess with it. I told him that if he didn't want to tell me, then I didn't want to know. Then he came out and said it.
"Will you marry me?"
No ring, no flowers, no years of excited anticipation--just a modest proposal. Don't get me wrong; I like simplicity very much. It's just that this time it all caught me off-guard, as if he had just asked me to go to dinner with him on Friday instead of spend the rest of eternity with him.
I told him that I didn't think that I could answer that just yet. He said ok, that it would be fine for me to just think about it and process it in my mind, be it for thirty seconds or eight or nine months.
So now begins the thinking.
Generally a girl is ecstatic when her boyfriend pops the question. Here at BYU there are not a few girls who would kill to have this opportunity. And yet, all I can do right now is sit here at my rented iMac and type a few stunned notes while my unknowing roommates and half the world sleeps.
What do I do?
