This was originally a story I wrote for JustB under this section called “This thing happened to me” but I can’t see it getting on there anytime soon (namely because they shelved those stories) and I am flat out with life this week so thought it just might do. Also, why waste good writing? Or why waste MY good writing? And yes, it’s all true. This is how Rob and I got engaged.
Originally titled I accidentally got engaged…
I planned a cheeky weekend escape with my fabulous new boyfriend when we were THICK in the “new love” phase. It was late February and that feeling of catching the last magical bit of summer was in the air. We had been going out for just 4 months and we were all. Over. Each. Other. And besotted, and in love, and quite frankly, sickening to anyone other than ourselves. I got a last minute rate on a fancy hotel up in the Northern Beaches so we packed the car with not much (what do you need when you are in love?!) plenty of champagne and off we went like those annoying couples I see now as a married mother of two heading off on weekend ‘mini breaks’.
We polished off one bottle of French Champagne and were onto our second when we headed out onto the verandah to watch the late afternoon light slip away. There was a wedding going on and which we watched from afar and we talked of our life together and all we had planned for our future (like you do when you are newly in love and a little drunk). A quick trip inside to refill our drinks saw me blurt out “Well, why don’t we just do it?” After some clarification from him that I didn’t mean that we could have sex (again – oh those were the days!) and that I actually meant “Let’s get married” we kind of stopped. And thought seriously. And then, before I knew what I was actually doing and sober enough to know any better, I got down on one knee and asked properly (because it was an actual leap year and I was allowed to ask for a mans hand in marriage you see) “Well, we know we want to be together, so what are we waiting for? Let’s get married!”. The next thing I know, he is saying YES. And what do you know? WE WERE ENGAGED. Just like that.
We sat and giggled and kissed and hugged and giggled again and then of course filled up our champagne because now we had a valid excuse to celebrate! We knew that as soon as we called either set of parents that it would be “official” and after we finally got the guts to make the calls, him: “Hey Mum, remember I was telling you I was seeing this girl? Well, we’re getting married!” and me: “Hi Mum, sure I know I just called off a long term relationship of 8 years AND a wedding, BUT! I’m getting married! No, I haven’t gone mad!” we sat back and toasted our future.
Hours later I remember waking from the champagne haze, head pounding, mouth dry and stomach churning full of butterflies and nerves and excitement. What had we done?! I looked at my sleeping man and knew, just knew as much as I knew when I was doing the wrong thing getting married to my ex, I just knew it right thing to do. It was what we were meant to do. It was all going to be OK.
And so far? Well 8 years and 2 kids later, constant reminders to him that there was a time that I actually did put out, I have to say, so far? Oh SO good.