This is me pre-proposal at the Redondo Beach Kite Festival on March 10, 2013 (before Tamon turned my world upside down).
So three days earlier, Tamon had gone to Joshua Tree with Paul, Eddie, Le and James.
It was my first weekend alone in the apartment. I admit I was a real wuss about it. I knew I didn’t want to do the obvious thing and start by calling all of my single friends to hang out. It was something that some of my non-single friends used to do back when I was still solo (why do I still feel like the third wheel even though your man is away at a bachelor’s party. Oh, because you’re texting him every 10 minutes). I parted ways with those friends but the anxiety of becoming that is still there. Also I’m an extrovert through and through and I dislike being alone.
But I tried to make the best of it and aimed to make this weekend about building my character. I had big plans: read or sew or some other exciting creative activity I hadn’t dabbled in a while. Or cook something amazing.
Instead of utilizing my time alone for noble or creative activities, this is what transpired:
Signed up for Netflix. Ate leftover Indian food. Watched two seasons of 30 rock.
Additionally I attempted to text Tamon three times. But since Joshua Tree is a dead zone for technology, he never received them, which is just as well because they were probably idiotically romantic.
Over that weekend I came to a realization that I was either now utterly co-dependent after only two years of dating, or Tamon was DA ONE.
Good news: I think the latter option is what happened because Tamon and I were mind-melding.
Despite having a fantastic weekend with the boys, hiking, eating good food and bonding, he missed me terribly. And on the drive back home, he decided to propose that day.
When he got back, we went to the Redondo Beach Kite Festival as previously planned. Unbeknownst to me, he also brought along the scrapbook that I had made him for our first-year anniversary. For the proposal, he’d created an addendum, which told an alternative version of my story of our first year. Cleverly concealed in the last page was the ring.
I didn’t think anything of it when Tamon took down a brown paper bag (concealing the book and the ring) from the car. We strolled along the pier and the beach, admiring hundreds of rainbow-hued kites that dotted the sky that day. Tamon urged me to go to a quieter spot. But I was mesmerized by the kites. I finally agreed to sit on a short log fence. Just as I was reading the addendum, a kite string wrapped around my neck. As Tamon retrieved the kite, I flipped to the ring page that said, “The Question,” and Tamon scolded me for skipping ahead.
Fortunately, I remained clueless until I finished the addendum and didn’t even realize what was happening until a few seconds after Tamon pulled out the ring. I remember it all feeling very surreal and thinking, “Wow, it’s really shiny.”
My first reaction was resistance — my brain kept thinking, I’m not ready! But fortunately, my mouth said, “Of course.” And I cried. I cried buckets.
Half an hour after Tamon’s proposal, I stopped crying and became incandescently happy.