The Proposal

Editorial: After reading (and re-reading and re-reading…) what I have drafted for this post, and considering the number of times I have told this story live, I feel like something is lost in translating it from spoken word to written. So, when you’re reading this, imagine me with eyes wide, eyebrows plunging dangerously close to my hairline, and hands gesturing wildly. Something like this: 

Kevin calls these my crazy eyes.

Kevin calls these my crazy eyes.

If you know (or dated) Kevin, you may be thinking, “Carly, how did you do it? How did you get Kevin to want to marry you??” The answer to this–and many more questions in life–is alcohol.

Let me back up. I have been told by Kevin and his parents that Kevin has always been adamant about not wanting to get married. Even as a child, he expressed disinterest in the traditional relationship trajectory. Before getting engaged, we had many arguments RE: our future. He made it clear that he wanted to commit but that he was against marriage for a number of lawyer-y reasons. Luckily for him, I am a rational girl (the few, the proud), and I understand that all that really matters in any relationship is dedication, honesty, and love. If someone wants to be with you, do you really need a contract binding them to it?

I decided I didn’t need marriage to earn Kevin’s loyalty for life. Besides, we all know that a legal document has never stopped anyone from cheating, leaving, or being a bad mate in general.

Anyway, it was a cold Friday night in January, sometime after midnight. We had imbibed some drinks at a local bar and we were winding down. I was half asleep in our bed, cuddled up with Peanut, and Kevin was in the shower. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and I was slowly dozing off.

A few minutes later, I was awoken from my pre-dream state by Kevin’s heavy footsteps marching down the hall toward our room…but the shower was still running. Kevin is very forgetful, so leaving the bathroom with the shower running was not out of the realm of possibility, but this was certainly a new low. He entered the room, fumbled through the junk drawer of his dresser (because everyone keeps their diamonds there, right?), slumped down the side of the bed, shoved a ring into my hand, and said with such intensity: “I’m serious.”

At this point, he had gotten my attention. This was something new, so, like a dog, I was interested. “Serious about what?” I asked. I hadn’t opened my hand to look, but I could tell there was a ring in there, and since we hadn’t discussed getting engaged or rings or any of that, I assumed it was some weird version of a promise ring, where he wanted to show his intention but hadn’t gotten everything together yet.

It was then that I noticed he was naked and dripping from head to toe; water was forming a puddle beneath him, and half of the comforter on the bed was soaked. I imagine this is also how Homo sapiens chose their mates, back in the days before our species earned that second “sapiens.”

“Kevin, go get a robe!” I screeched.

While he left to robe up, I turned on the light and studied my new jewelry. I could tell right away that it wasn’t from this century (which thrilled me…I love vintage anything). When he returned, I made Kevin ask properly (down on one knee, standard script of “Will you marry me?”). I asked him why he decided to propose the way he did, considering we had just recently returned from a fun (though illness-inducing), week-long trip to DC and NYC (perhaps some of the more romantic places in the world), and he answered, “I was in the shower, I made up my mind, and I had to do it right then or I might have never done it.”

Truth be told, I can’t imagine a better proposal. It was very “Kevin” and not too romantic or mushy, which I would not have liked. I think his spontaneous marriage proposal at least wins points for originality. And, more importantly, I was truly surprised.

For weeks, Kevin complained about not having his own ring and demanded that I present him with one. This, of course, is ridiculous, as demonstrated by Andre in Season 4 of The League. To quell his jealous ring finger, however, I did manage to purchase a delicious Ring Pop (most of which I ate, but it’s the thought that counts). (Actually, I bought him a pair of Ring Pops, because one thing I have learned about Kevin is that if he is jealous of what you have and you can’t afford to get him the exact same thing, just get him two of a knockoff.)

Like any newly engaged couple, we told no one for 3 weeks. (Wait…that’s not normal??) We wanted to share with our parents before announcing publicly, so it wasn’t until mid-February that anyone else knew. It was a hard but fun secret to keep. And in case we’re ever involved in a highly classified operation, at least someone can vouch for my stellar track record as a confidante.

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