Hark, all ye commitment-shy types, to my tale, and learn ye from my example, that ye not cause yourselves the problems I did.
Kyle and I started dating in February of 1999. (On the 12th, perhaps, or the 16th. “Averaging” these two dates to make our anniversary Valentine’s Day is not correct, no matter what he says — especially when he deliberately avoided asking me out on Valentine’s Day at the time.) Within about three years or so, he made it clear that he was happy with me and more or less ready to propose. I, on the other hand, being twitchy and commitment-shy, made it clear that I was not ready to be proposed to. Thus began a half-unspoken agreement wherein he would not propose until I was ready for it.
This went on for about four years.
I realized some months ago that I’d put myself in a bind. Assuming I was ready — which I wasn’t sure of — then telling him so would be tantamount to telling him to propose. Telling him to propose would (assuming I wasn’t a truly sadistic bitch) be tantamount to telling him my answer. So the minute I said I was ready, whether I passed it through intermediaries or not (as was suggested to me), I would feel like I had a target painted on my forehead, waiting for him to ask.
This was awkward.
So then I got it into my head that I could circumvent the problem by proposing to him myself, thereby avoiding the “sitting duck” stage of the process.
Which I did. On Thursday. (The 16th.)
Let the record show that he spent about three minutes laughing hysterically before he got around to answering me. (He accepted.) He then asked me if I had a ring for him, so I took off the one I was wearing (which he gave to me several years ago) and put it on his pinkie finger (the only one it would fit on). He has also pointed out to me repeatedly that he hasn’t proposed to me, so I haven’t technically agreed to marry him. There might be a proposal in my future yet. But any way you slice it, we are now engaged.
It amuses me that it’s apparently family tradition on both sides: my mother proposed to my father, and so did Kyle’s mother to his father. Of couse, he’s just vexed that I ruined all of his plans, since he’d pretty much decided to propose to me in the next six months whether I wanted him to or not.
The delay in posting this came about because, halfway through telling people, Kyle decided that he wanted to wait to tell people here in town until Saturday night, when there would be a party at which we could announce the news. I agreed that this would be preferable to letting all our local friends find out via LJ, hence the delay. But now it’s as public as it gets: I am engaged, after seven years of dating.
And no, we haven’t set a date yet. If people keep asking me that, I may just have to deck somebody.