In The Beginning

got to thinking that before i jump in to everything that's going on in our general day-to-day i could share the story of how it all began. it's one of my favorite stories so i really don't mind telling it.

Russ and i had been dating for about three months and were sitting in a Waffle House, having just checked out of some cheap hotel. he was saying what a pain it was to get a hotel room every weekend and how he hated not being able to see me more during the week. i was nodding. (truth is i was eating -- people never discuss anything with me while i'm eating you'd like me to remember later. at least half my brain is somewhere smiling up at the sun.) he suggested we move in together. i put down my fork.

i put on my Serious Face. "i don't do that. i don't 'live' with somebody. i've never moved in with somebody because, since we can't actually get married, that's the closest i'll ever get. when i do, that's what it'll mean to me -- it'll be like getting married." he just smiled and said, "i'm cool with that."

let me try to describe how i felt at that moment, with him looking at me with those pretty green eyes and saying to me -- without actually saying to me i'll just mention -- that he wants to marry me. dumbstruck is accurate. mind spinning in fast circles like a car out of control after being blindsided in an intersection kinda covers it. i don't know how long i waited before agreeing. i knew then i was going to, but it was all so sudden and wonderful that i had a hard time wrapping my mind around it.

we'd been living together for about three weeks when he made it official. he came in one Saturday morning after disappearing before breakfast. "i hope you don't get mad but i've done something you told me not to." now, you can just imagine the can of worms that opened in my mind less than a month into our relationship. he came into the bedroom with his hands behind his back. i looked at him, "i'm not promising anything."

he held his hands out to me. he had bought a set of plain gold wedding bands. (see, he'd said he wanted to buy me a ring and i'd said no because i was imagining a diamond ring set in emeralds. anybody who knows me could tell you i'm always Princess Ariel in my head.) of course, big tears pooled up in my eyes and for probably the first time in my life the smart ass in my head had gone silent. he put one on and then slipped the other on my finger, "i just want everyone to know that you're mine."

that's my Russie. he's five star restaurant food at Sunday dinner and cocktails on the porch as the sun goes down. if God had asked me what i wanted i would have gone on and on for hours -- and i'd have been totally wrong. (and that's why He never does ;-) i had dreams of candlelight and lobster, museum galas in tuxedos and theater weekends in New York. i got nine o'clock bedtimes and falling asleep with my head on his chest. but, take a look at pictures of us. do i look unhappy to you?