here's how it went down
We're sitting on the Waikiki beach around 10 at night. We're pretty tired -- we'd woken up before 7 am, and had spent the whole day driving around Oahu. (Ironically, the rental car place picked us up in the morning, and our driver, a friendly lady with a thick Hawaiian accent, asked us if we were on our honeymoon. No, we laughed, saying it was just Alan's spring break. "We're not married yet," I said, smiling, holding my left hand up for her to see in the rearview mirror.)
So we are on the beach at night after a long day, resting, trying to identify constellations. We give up after a while, and Alan sits quietly as I lay back in the sand and start to doze off. Ten minutes later, I'm starting to get cold. I rouse myself from half-sleep and stagger to my feet.
"C'mon, let's go in," I say, brushing the sand from my legs.
Alan is slow to move. "You know, I've been thinking... we've been together for five years now..."
"Yep," I say lightly, impatiently.
"...I think it's time to take it the next level."
"What do you mean by that?" I am already turning away from him and starting to walk toward the hotel.
He catches my hand, pulls me back to face him. "Jennifer Lee, will you marry me?"
And then before I realize what is happening, he's kneeling, reaching into his pocket, pulling out the ring.
Embarrassingly enough, my response is, "Are you joking?"
"No," he says.
"Yes. Of course," I say, pulling him up, hugging him, crying, spilling tears on the front of his shirt.
And that's the story, really. Later on we go have a drink at the hotel bar -- "to celebrate," Alan says. I wish I could remember the names of the drinks we ordered, what song the lounge band was playing, because it seems like that's what supposed to happen at significant points in your life, right? You remember every little detail. But honestly, all I can remember is that we sat there, sipping away at our alcoholic beverages in silence, mostly because I was afraid that if I said anything, I'd start getting all teary-eyed and choked up again and then our waitress would come over to check on us, and I'd have to explain what was wrong with me.
At some point, though, I did say to Alan, "Nothing's changed, really." When I said it then, it was half a reassurance to myself and half a question to Alan.
But it's been a month and a half since he proposed, and nothing has changed, really. Except that now people ask me about things like THE WEDDING. And I have to refer to Alan as my fiance, something I haven't quite gotten used to yet.
I have gotten used to wearing the ring, though, which amuses me because I've never been one for jewelry. I'm surprised that I actually remember to put it on every day. And at night, when I take it off before I go to bed, I'm also surprised to find that my finger feels empty without it.