It is Saturday morning. I’m standing at the window of our house. I had moved in one week ago; half unpacked boxes were strewn across my living room floor, bordering the heavy blanket and limp pillow where I had spent the past 5 nights. I bought the house one month ago, a short sale, the day after I accepted the supervisory position to the job I initially applied for. I guess the interviewers saw my potential. My monthly salary would be more than I had made in the past 6 months.
Three weeks ago I bought the ring. It was a simple band of Tungsten. The jeweller said it was scratch resistant and so hard that in case of emergency you would have to destroy the ring or destroy the finger to remove it. I remember thinking “Are you really trying to sell this ring?” Somehow his tactic worked.
Two weeks ago, I called my parents and told them my plan. I even called his mum and asked for her blessing. They laughed at the unconventional idea, but secretly began planning the details of our wedding.
One week ago, I packed the box in my purse, dressed in a simple white tunic and a clean face, and headed to his apartment. He had just come home from a three-week assignment abroad. I simply asked, without flare, without drama. He was an undemanding and straightforward guy. So straightforward that his answer was “No. I can’t marry potential“.
It is Saturday morning. I’m standing at the window of my house.
Just another short story… it’s been awhile. Leave a comment if you liked, leave a comment if you didn’t like 😛