Now, many of you know that I have been dating for longer than many readers of LG have been alive. Or some, anyway. That means a very long time.
Depending on how you look at it, at some point I got really good at it. Alternately, one could say, "Wow, she's needed remedial dating lessons for years!"
So you date along and you date along. There are guys you really like and guys who really like you. Sometimes these things coincide, at least for a period of time. Much of the time they don't, or the amount of time that you both feel the same is ephemeral and eventually painful and disappointing.
What's my point?
It's this. And please bear with me, because the end of this little tale is insanely good.
Eventually you meet a guy you think is really cute, and smart, and ridiculously, goofily, funny. He's not only good to you, he's kind to everyone. He's incredibly polite to cab drivers and wait staff - two of things you look for. He holds doors for people, and he tucks you in the car and closes your door before walking around to his side.
You spend astounding amounts of time together, and it's just so nice. Very quickly, he feels like home. Every Sunday you do the NY Times crossword together, drinking tea and mostly sharing really well - although not every minute. You run together down on the parkway, and it's the first time you've really liked exercising with a guy you are dating.
He introduces you to the Family Guy, which you hate, because dude, there's a woman who sleeps with a dog on the show! I don't care if the dog talks and is really cool, or that it's a cartoon. It's still cartoon bestiality. He's not remotely interested in team sports, and for this you thank your lucky stars. You introduce him to Project Runway, and despite himself, he's really impressed.
And one day, you are making tea in the kitchen, and he catches your eye from the living room. Why? So that you can see him performing his exaggeratedly awkward krump moves for you. Or displaying his breakdancing skills. I don't know about you, but there are few things I find funnier than an enormous white guy pretending to krump. Or breakdance.
And the fact is? He will do these moves, accompanied by humming, in the car as well. Which delights you immensely. It occasionally delights the people stopped at the light next to you.
Things like this make you think, how on earth did I find this person? Who keeps me endlessly entertained? And thinks I'm the best thing since peanut butter ever ever ever?
And, is it possible that all these people who have had so much more faith than I have, and who have said over and over that if it's right, it'll just work, without drama trauma, games, or needless struggles - is it possible they are actually right?
It turns out they are.
On Saturday night, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.
And I said, "Yes! Absolutely! Yes!"