Where's my ring?

Now that it's on Facebook (and officially official), here's the back story to my new favorite piece of eye candy.

There is an equation you need to know in order for you to appreciate this story. It goes like this:

8 years of dating + 1 girlfriend who is wedding obsessed = infinite questions about the proximity of a marriage proposal

I've been asking Ben for awhile about the time frame of the most important event in any girl's life and when it's going to be me who gets to enjoy it. To the point of being annoying. Actually, beyond annoying. Like a kid in the backseat of a car on a long trip asking "Are we there yet?" annoying. Because that's how I felt. I wanted to know when we would be there. Together.

Ben, being the most wonderful person that he is, accepted this and mostly just laughed at my persistence. Usually, I would ask out of the blue in the hopes of catching him off-guard so that he might slip up and give me any clue of when the day might be coming. He always responded with, "Do you really want to know?" to which I would always say no. He would just laugh and shake his head, knowing that even though I acted like I wanted to know, really, I wanted to be completely surprised. And I am freaking hard to surprise. I've figured out my Christmas present several years in a row. He didn't give me any hints on this one - he didn't want me to figure it out because he knew I really didn't want to figure it out, try as I might to do so.

Until about a month ago, that is. I asked my usual question, and he replied, "Soon," at which point I dove under a blanket from shock and surprise. If he were smart, he would have heeded that reaction and rethought our relationship. He didn't (probably to his own detriment), so I kind of forgot.

Kind of, but not really. We went to breakfast on Sunday morning. We were talking, and I asked him again, the same question as always, and then remembered about that convo from a month ago, and called him on it. He said that he had lied. I thought he was just messing with me. Totally par for the course.

And then that evening, we were sitting on the sofa after dinner, and I was looking through my news feed, whining about how everyone I know is married or engaged and when is it going to be our turn? He laughed at me, like he always does, finished brushing the cat (for the 100th time that day...he had almost as many brushings as I did questions about our future wedding) and came to sit next to me on the sofa. Engrossed by my phone, it was a moment before I looked over and caught him staring at me, lovingly.

"I love you, Honey," he said.

To which I replied, saucily, "Where's my ring?"

And really, this story should end there with him dumping me and swearing I'm the most high-maintenance girlfriend that he ever did have. But instead, he answered my question by digging in his pocket...

And pulled out the ring I had asked for 1,001 times.

Much squealing and joy and phone calls and living happily ever after ensued.

And from now on, the answer to "I love you," is "I love you, too."