When I think about telling this story, I'm not really sure where to begin. At the way way beginning? Because that's really long and detailed. This is the first time I actually put these thoughts on paper, so I'll just jump right in and see where that leads.
When I saw Stretch for the first time, I know my face flushed, and I wanted to turn away so that my lurve for what I saw would not embarrass me, but I was like a moth to a flame and I'm sure I just stood there and stared, mouth gaping, trying to look cooler than I felt. He was wearing a tux, and he was looking mighty fine. He apparently felt the same way about me which was a great big relief, and also a jolt of happy feelings.
Fast-forward about fifteen months. One night, Stretch and I had made plans to meet the next morning at a local coffee house. Him for coffee, me for steamed milk with vanilla. The next morning when I was brushing my teeth, I heard a knock at my apartment door. I opened it and found a friend of his standing there, holding a brown paper bag. He said, "special delivery!" and walked away. I demanded more information, yelling down the hall at him, "what is going on?!" I got no such information. And I'm glad.
I opened the bag. Inside was a fortune cookie. Hmm, interesting. Cute. I like this game. I crack open the cookie and there is a small slip of paper instructing me to drive to the coffee house and tell the cashier my name. Okaayyy. So I was super giddy now! And a little nervous about how much of a dorkus I would look like walking up and saying, Hi, I'm Jodie. And then waiting, in the thick, embarrassing silence for her response. Which is exactly what I did. Shaking all the way. I walk up, tell the girl my name and she hands me my regular, steamed milk with vanilla and another paper bag containing another fortune cookie. This time my instructions were to drive to McDonald's and tell the cashier who I was.
When I got there, I walked in and by this time I was looking over my shoulder trying to read people's faces and see who all was in on this. I felt extremely silly. And elated.
So I followed my instructions and was, again, handed my regular. Breakfast burritos with hot sauce. And another bag, with another cookie. This one said to go to a certain meeting place. So I did. And there he was, sitting there with this huge, silly and nervous grin on his face, and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers behind him. When I reached him (after what felt like an endless walk), he stood up and hugged me, lifting my feet off the ground and spinning me around. Then he got down on one knee, pulled a ring box out of his pocket and asked me to marry him. I knew I could never spend the rest of my life without this man.
I said yes.
That was six years ago, and I would marry him again in a second.
Happy Anniversary, honeybee. I love you so much. You had me at hello. ;)
I really do not know that anything has ever been more exciting than diagramming sentences. —Gertrude Stein
09 May 2008
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7 people love me:
Happy Anniversary to you sugar! I'd marry you all over again, too. And we have 3 incredible blessings that let us know how much it would be worth! I love you!
Awwwwwww! This is gorgeous!!!
Happy Anniversary!
(And can I say I saw your comment at BooMama and I LOVE that you TOOK NOTES! I myself have been known to do the same thing.
Pumpkin's out.)
Oh my word. Could he be any more romantic??? You are very blessed (as is he)!
Congratulations!
awww...must I comment on how this makes me feel? yes! as I cry tears of happiness, I feel like a mama hen, so proud of her little chickens...like an incredibly blessed sister, whose little brother did it right...like a grateful sister who gained another sister...like a very thankful child very gracious for God to see fit to put ya'll together like that...awww. i love y'all!
So, Danny's a romantic after all. This is a sweet story.
i've added you to my blogroll... :-)
Whoa. THAT is one excellent proposal story - happy sixth anniversary!
Mr. J. just gave me a card that pronounced the sixth anniversary gift to be styrofoam. Oh boy!
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