Four years ago, Troy asked me to marry him. He wanted to be able to remember the date.
My finger likes the clothes it's been wearing ever since. My ring (there are two, fused in to one) might be one of my favorite earthly possessions. It could tell you alot of stories, that's for sure.
I love that it was on my finger the day I said, "I do." And I love that's it's still here, loving my husband more with each passing day.
So, to Troy: happy engagement day. You're my favorite. Thanks for waiting for me.
To everyone else: hold out for true-fireworks-and-butterflies-and-everything-you-thought-it-could-be love. Because sure, there will be hard times, but it's just not worth it if at the end of the day, you don't sometimes feel a little of that initial magic lingering. Of course, you briefly acknowledge it as you step into your flannel pajamas and turn out the light. After all, what's magic if it's not comfortable?