I met J early in my freshman year of college, and fell in love -- with his apartment, his roommates, his grown-up lifestyle. They had a kitchen, after all, and I was living in a dorm. The guys became like my big brothers, at first (though initially I dated J’s roommate!). Midway through the next year, after becoming very good friends, J and I had our first kiss, and the relationship grew from there.
The summer after I graduated from college (and after a year of our living together), I went with J’s family on a trip to Disney World. I pretty much knew I’d be with him at that point, and I half expected him to propose with a Mickey Mouse ring someplace on that trip. (I was picking up on the vibes correctly - he was thinking about it, but didn’t do it!) [It was on this trip that I bought my first piece of contraband - a small, classic Pooh-bear that rattled.]
When it finally happened, the proposal was nothing like I’d pictured. As we were getting ready for bed, we both realized that we’d forgotten to celebrate our anniversary the night before. And then, totally anticlimactically, he proposed. I think we both already knew, so the proposal itself was a bit of a formality. I wasn’t sure it was coming at that point, because we hadn’t really talked about rings. Sure, he knew that I didn’t like yellow gold, and that I liked the idea of the diamond having some company on either side, but otherwise we hadn’t really talked specifics. So, while I wasn’t all that surprised when he asked, I was bowled over that he had a ring. My ring. A beautiful ring.
My engagement ring was originally given to his mother as a pinky ring to mark her graduation (from high school, we think), and was made from stones originally belonging to J’s great-grandmother. So it is full of history. The ring is almost exactly what I would have picked if I’d designed my own ring from scratch, and coupled with the idea that his whole family was supportive of our engagement made it incredibly special.
As it turns out, he’d been carrying the ring around, and had almost asked me at least a half a dozen times, but didn’t think it was the right time or place or moment. I think in the end it was more special that he let go of his plans for the perfect proposal in favor of just taking the leap and moving forward.
On our 2nd anniversary, we went to Disneyland, and he bought me the ring I’d expected in the first place - a Mickey ring.
(My little piece of the 2nd Annual Infertile Bloggirl Engagement Ring Fashion Show...)