If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times. Never, not ever, getting married again.
I lied. Well, kind of. I didn’t count on finding the guy that you can drink beer and spit and cuss with. Also didn’t count on finding the guy who didn’t really want a subservient mate. Not the one who says he does, but doesn’t. This guy really doesn’t want subservience. He likes my real boobs, my no makeup. My egg beater of a haircut.

So in the face of that, why stand on principle any longer? So I popped the question. To be truthful it wasn’t the question so much as the concept. Growing old together, loving each other as we are. Knowing when the other person needs space and giving them that. So when I asked him if he wanted to grow old together he asked me if it was a proposal and I said sure why not?

So there you have it. Not the most romantic, but life sometimes is it’s most romantic when it doesn’t follow that trashy rom-dram script.

Not like I’ve ever done anything by the book before. Why start now?

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