Whaaa? Have I provided you with breakfast sausage this fine Wednesday morning? No, readers, those are just my fat fingers. Looking at my hand right now, I realize that my fingers look different after having dropped a little weight but seeing as my camera is aaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllll the way on the other side of our house, and I’m le tired. So for now, you get fat fingers, but that’s my ring. So again, you know I said yes.
We left off with Aaron leaving and me going to the local track for a run while I clear my head on how to make my move out of the house that we shared. After running a couple of laps, my phone rings, and it’s my dad. I answer, and he can tell right away that something is wrong. I am a weakling, and I spill the beans. I usually don’t spill the beans to my father, but he was the first human that I came into contact with, so he heard my fury full force. I will have to hand it to my dad…the words he chose to share with me that day probably saved my relationship with my FI. After hearing how hurt and embarassed I was, my dad empathized with me by sharing some stories from when he and my mom struggled in their relationship. He shared some things that I had never known about even though I am very close to both of my parents. He shared with me one particular story about a fight over money where he considered walking but stayed. That was it. I knew that I couldn’t walk away from my guy just like my dad couldn’t walk away from my mom.
I got off the phone with my dad and climbed to the top of the bleachers and lay down. I knew I wasn’t going to leave my guy, but I did not think that I could pull myself together to go with everyone to the wedding which was starting in four hours. I was supposed to be getting a ride with my guy’s parents to the church since my guy was an usher. I cried for another while and then fell asleep like a BUM on the bleachers. Embarassing! I snore and drool and talk in my sleep, so God knows what pedestrians thought as they saw the blubbering idiot sleeping on the top bench. Anyhoo…while I was sleeping, I missed several phone calls. Later on I pieced together this series of events:
First: My guy comes home and finds that I am not there. He calls his mom to see if I’ve spoken to her. She hasn’t seen/heard from me so she calls me. I don’t answer because I am sleeping on the bleachers.
Second: My guy calls my dad to ask for my hand in marriage. My dad having just gotten off the phone with me is nervously hesitant (so my dad), so he tells my guy to call back later when my mom was there. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!! That was my favorite part. My dad calls my mom who is on her way home and explains the situation. My mom calls me. I don’t answer because I am sleeping on the bleachers.
Third: My guy calls my parents again, and properly asks for my hand in marriage, my parents say yes. He tells them that he intends on proposing to me at the reception that evening. My mom is ferverently calling me to tell me to get home and get ready for the wedding. I love my mom…Bad day or not, when you are being proposed to you go home and get your hair did.
Fourth: I wake up, realize I have all these missed calls, and I don’t know what time it is. I go home, and my guy buckles down and cries and tells me what I mean to him. Upon hindsight, I kind of consider this our proposal moment because all the sweetest things he’s ever said come out here.
Fifth: We head to the wedding reception. I AM OUT OF TIME AGAIN! DAMNIT! Have I mentioned that I hate working? I swear, I’ll finish up this story properly tomorrow.
Tune in, bitches.