Proposing...

Today is February 29; A leap year.   It would be perfectly acceptable for me to get down on bended knee tonight while at our Village Gold Class movie (Safe House...  I do love Denzel) and propose.  Hell, they serve champagne so we could even celebrate with a glass of bubbly!

The trouble is, having been married several times; I understand that perhaps I’m just not cut out for the whole marriage thing.  If I think back on it, I believe this was due to my choice in past husbands as opposed to me being crap at wifely duties, but how do I know that I’ve improved in the picking department?  And then I have the conundrum of my “old fashioned girl” versus my “modern, intelligent woman” gene.  I like my name.  It would look fantastic on a book cover.  His is okay but it doesn’t ring my bell.  And if you're not going to take their name, why bother..?  

So with a definitive ‘no’ in my mind, I’m left to use the “I could propose...” line as a tool of torment only.   And I’m pretty good at torture so I’ve decided to just let him spend a percentage of the day in emotional turmoil and upheaval.  Given that he knows me so well; knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that I have absolutely no desire to marry, I guess you are wondering why he would even be in emotional turmoil.

Well it is because he knows me so damned well that he would experience a mild seesaw effect of sentiment.  Initially, his reaction would be to shrug nonchalantly, certain that I’m teasing.  Then, because he knows me so well, knows I’m apt to change my mind at a moment’s notice, a tumult of emotion will probably rise up and choke him.

Think I’ll send him a text to say: “if I propose tonight, at least I know they have bubbly in gold class!”

He he.