Popping the question

They were sitting around the house. Not really doing anything. They did this sometimes; had quiet moments. They had come out of the "dating" closet a couple of months ago, though they had been friends for almost two years. Dating was probably not the best word for what they were doing. Hanging out as very, very good friends was more like it. It was just more of the same thing that they had been doing before, just much more of the same. It really didn’t even include much in the way of benefits. Poor man. He’d been very patience.

Her husband (the Jerk) had left her 8 months before and had written her a letter telling her he wanted a divorce 4 months later. The Jerk’s reasoning was that it would be better for her. He was right though she couldn’t see that at the time. She could stop sending him money every month. That would be better for her.

She had typed up all the paperwork for the divorce, sent certified copies for the Jerk’s signature (that he would never return), taken everything into the court, and was just waiting for the court date to come up in three weeks. It would put an end to five years of emotional investment in the Jerk.

This preparation and waiting left her totally unprepared for the conversation ahead.

“Will you marry me?” he said earnestly. He was 30 years old; had never asked anyone to marry him before; had never even thought to. Earnest was the only way he could be.

“What? You’re kidding right?” she said. Probably not the best response and definitely not the one he was expecting but she was incredulous. What was he thinking? She was never ever going to put herself in that position again. Nope. Never. Wasn’t going to happen. He’d been with her through the whole thing how could he even think that she’d say yes.

“No, I’m not kidding. I want to marry you.” He said patiently. He was like that with her, patient. Get him behind the wheel of a car and he could lose it but with her it was always the same. Patience galore. He probably figured that if he was the least bit impatient with her she’d run for the hills. Most likely he was right.

“No”

“No? You don’t even want to think about it?”

“No, I don’t even want to think about. Maybe in 6 months or so but I just can’t right now.” She was going to cry if he kept at this. She hated to cry. She hated to cry in front of anyone. She would hate to cry in front of him especially. Don’t ask her why that was just the way it was.

“Okay, I’ll ask you again in 6 months.”

And, damned if he didn’t. She made him wait another 6 months before she would actually marry him but he didn’t seem to mind. The poor sap, he really must have been in love.

Love,
M