I've been proposed to 6 Times....
I've been proposed to 6 times in my life.
He was this guy I was fucking around with in high school. I was 17, he was 20. I thought I was the shit because I was dating an older guy. He always would sneak to my house to see me (when my parents weren't home, of course). For some reason, I found that (sweet?). I was fucking 17...what do you expect. He was the first guy to tell me that he loved me. He asked me to be his wife. I never really gave him an answer, but the proposal itself was pretty cool....I thought so anyway. I really thought I had it going on. I thought that I was in love....or at least some kind of LoveThang. You couldn't tell me nothing. I was 17 and I was in a motherfuckin' LoveThang.
Then one dreadful day, my father found out about the relationship and he fucking kicked my blazian ass. Apparently, my father had secretly tapped the house phones (yes,you read right... he motherfuckin' put a tap on the motherfuckin' phones) and had been recording my conversations with my boyfriend. Unfortunately, the taped conversations also revealed my poor sister covering for me and my secret LoveThang multiple times. After he got done beating the shit out of me (and my sister for covering for me), he forbade me from continuing my LoveThang. And I obeyed my father.
After I left for college, I went totally buck-fucking-wild. I became a serial dater. I remember at one point in time, I was dating 7 guys at one time. I started dating this one particular guy that went to school 45 minutes away from me. He was so sweet...and extremely handsome. He would drive 45 minutes every weekend to see me. Sometimes I would drive up to see him, but I wasn't really diggin' the whole driving thing. So, he would drive 45 minutes to come pick me up and 45 minutes to take me back to his apartment. Needless to say, the motherfucker was pussy whipped. Go figure...
Meanwhile, back on the home front, my father and I were bumping heads...once again. My father wanted me to move back home...I wanted to stay in my apartment. Go back home and get dictated again?? FUCK THAT SHIT! So, by refusing to move back in with my parents, I pissed my Daddy off and Daddy cut me off financially.
This meant that I would have to pay my college tuition on my Books-A-Million sales associate wage. Of course, that shit didn't happen. So, I decided to join the goddamn Air Force.
When I broke this news to my boyfriend, he got really really sad. It kind of caught me off guard how emotional he became. I mean, the shit sucked ass, but damn...it's not like anyone died! I was starting to think that he was really and truly heartbroken. A few days later, he came to pick me up and he told me, "I don't want you to go...Will you marry me?"
Do you know what I did? Do you want to know what my bitch-ass did? I fuck-ing started laughing! I don't know why....I guess that I didn't think that he was serious. Well, when I realized that I was the only one laughing, I quickly attempted to remove my foot from my mouth with a good ol' " We're Too Young to Get Married...We Have Our Whole Lives Ahead Of Us" speech.
I was dating "Proposal #3" the same time I was dating "Proposal #2" . I started dating "Proposal #3" shortly after high school and thru Freshman year of college. He was a good guy...he just got caught up in a fucked up situation. That situation being ME. First of all, I started dating him because he was everything that I thought my father would hate. He was from the "hood", he was far from clean cut, he graduated from high school 2 years late, his father was a drunk, he was short and he didn't have any aspirations of going to college. I thought for sure that I would piss my father off when I brought this guy home. Strange and ironic enough, they hit it off. My father loved him. My father didn't see the flaws, he saw the potential. This guy had a good heart. He came from a fucked up place, but he was going to make sure that he got out of there. The Marine Corp was his answer. My father, being a veteran himself, couldn't do nothing but respect that.
So, I dated this guy for about a year. Then, one day he came home on leave and he picked me up from work and that's when he popped the question...and I accepted.
He gave me a little ass diamond ring that I wore proudly. I showed the ring to my father and he immediately threw us an engagement party. Shorty thereafter, my boyfriend left to go back to his duty station in California. I remained faithfully engaged to him for about 6 months. At the 6 month mark, he started pressuring me to set a date. He wanted me to hurry up and marry him and move to California with him. The only problem was that I was in the middle of school and I didn't want to transfer. He told me not to worry my pretty little head... that I didn't need college...that he would take care of me. Now, anyone that know me, knows how bullheadingly independent I am.
So, I took him out to dinner. I took him to a public place...a place I knew that he wouldn't make a scene. Over creme brulee, I slowly slid his pathetic excuse for an engagement ring towards him and I nonchalantly told him, "You know what, this just isn't working...Let's just be...uh.. friends, OK?"
Yea, I so gave my fiance the "Let's Just Be Friends" Speech.
Proposal #4:Shortly after joining the Air Force...2 months to be exact...I met a charming debonair young man from Los Angeles. He was beautiful, charismatic, and said all the right things...and we boinked....oh, how we boinked. I know, I know...me?! fornicate?! Whatever, don't judge me.
So, anyway, I accidentally got knocked the fuck up. He asked me to marry him. My mind was racing in a million different directions. I mean, was this really happening to me? I was only 19. I was just beginning my Air Force career. And now, this California boy wanted to marry me. Was it because I was pregnant...or did he really love me? He said that he loved me, but, hell, all guys use the "L" word to get into a girl's pants. Shit, to be quite honest, I've even thrown around the "L" word to get into a few guys' pants (and wallets, but that's a different story). Hey, just keeping it reals. Anyway, so I wasn't about to marry anyone just because I was carrying around their DNA...so, I said no. Two weeks later, I lost the baby.
One week later, he asked me to marry him...again. I don't know if it was his persistence that made me say yes. Perhaps it was the fact that now that we didn't have the idea of a child looming, maybe, just maybe, I thought that he could actually really love me. Or maybe I was actually falling for this guy. I guess it was that shiny LA charm. So, I said yes. We've been married for over 7 years now.
You'd think that my tale would end at "Proposal #5", right? After all, I am still married, right? Well, yes...it's true that I am still married to my husband. However, last month I got an interesting message via MySpace from an old college friend. This "old friend" is a guy that I went out with one time almost 10 years ago. In this message, my old friend tells me that for the last 10 years, he's been working on building us a life. (I know, WTF, right?!)
He goes on to say that he's been going to medical school and saving every penny possible and waiting for the right time to offer me the "life I deserved". He says that he's already picked out a wedding ring, and he's ready to make a trip to my hometown to ask my father for my hand in marriage. I quickly message him back that I'm already married, with kids, and a dog!
His response: "I know for a fact that he can't love you the way I can love you. Very well, my love, I will wait until you're done with him and then I will be here and ready to give you and the kids the life you deserve. I've waited 10 years, what's a few more. An angel like you is worth the wait."