“Did we just get pre-engaged last Sunday,” I asked him via text.
It was one very late night and I was pretty sure he was already crashed out, so I prayed that the message tone wouldn’t stir him up. It was meant to be read at a later time.
I had added a “haha” to connote that the question was not a pressing one. I had also used the term “pre-engaged” because, that night, I did feel kind of engaged…and kind of not. He did not really pop the question. There was no kneeling down on one knee with an amazing diamond ring, either. Just one Sunday night sitting side by side at a musical event and then him uttering something about us getting married. Such proposition didn’t come from nowhere, of course. A few hours earlier, we had snuck out of the venue to get something to eat. He was starving. We headed to 7-11 and munched our way through a cup of noodles and Pringles. Then he said:
“My parents wanted us to get married already.”
I might have had a self-satisfied smirk on my face with that response but he sort of discounted it and just went on by saying how his mom had been talking to him about her plan to retire from work just so she could help us raise our (first) child, the plans to do this and that, plans, plans, plans, and some more plans.
“I love your parents for thinking that much about us,” I said slowly. “But are we ready?” Rhetorical question.
And that’s when it happened. Sunday night. Post 7-11. He and I had already been sitting side by side for a few good hours waiting for his band to take the stage when all of a sudden he came to life.
“Okay, let’s get married when you’re this age and I’m that age “.
Squealing could have been the most reasonable way of responding to lines like let’s get married, but I just swallowed, brought my eyes up to meet his steady gaze, and composed myself.
(Related Post: Question 1129)