He asked me to marry him last night. Last night. Marry him! What am I supposed to think? I recall several conversations at once. He hates to read, he can't eat ice cream, he had an ulcer when he was nine. All things of unimportance, and yet they flood into my mind in an engulfing gush. He hates to read.....
One thing I remember he said, he likes to do jigsaw puzzles. The kind with 1000 pieces. I can see us now. It is our wedding night. We are assembling our wedding picture that he had made into a puzzle. And on our 50th wedding anniversary, our arthritic hands will shake and quake as we put that last piece into the puzzle of our lives.
What ridiculous thoughts! Or are they?
He asked me to marry him last night! Me, of all people. Me, with my unruly hair and freckled face. Me, who loves to eat ice cream and read a classic novel. I love Charlotte Bronte. He would say “Charlotte who?” HE ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM!
Last night a yes was on my tongue. This morning I feel as though I haven't a tongue. All I can think of are his blue eyes. Do I want blue-eyed children? Do I want blond-haired children? I think I could stare into his eyes forever. Probably longer.
He asked me to marry him last night. Does he really love me? Me? ME? I want to ask him when he first knew, when the pain in his stomach became too much to bear, and he had to blurt out the news. Be he didn't do that. He didn't even kiss me. I doubt he has ever blurted anything in his life. Well, I've blurted it many times. I LOVE HIM! I LOVE HIM!
He asked me to marry him last night. Will wonders never cease?
1 comment:
I like the premise here. The uncertainty of particulars. It almost feels like a poem in its brevity and focus.
-Protea
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