Yesterday, at more or less 3 pm, Greg proposed to me.

(Of course, I *would* have to go and start writing this a while earlier, and then tried to save a draft and this time it did the exact opposite of what I wanted. Arrgh.)

We were watching TV, because there's not a hell of a lot else to do in his room. I was sitting on the floor between his legs while he sat in the chair his grandfather gave him. He asked to look at my promise ring, to see how dirty it was (it was 725 silver that he gave me about Valentine's Day so you can perhaps figure out how tarnished it had gotten). So I handed it to him and left my hand behind my head so he could put the ring back on it.

Or *a* ring back on it, anyway... I had an inkling this was what he was on about, as he'd used a similar trick to get me my promise ring.

I pulled my hand back down and looked, and I saw this (only purple, not blue) instead of the somewhat beat-up silver ring that was missing its amethyst since last May.

Now, on my hand, I have a titanium engagement ring, featuring three amethysts. There is no gold. There are no diamonds. It is exactly what I wanted.

It was not a perfect proposal. There was no kneeling, and no white handkerchief, and no pictures.

Just like our relationship, it wasn't perfect, but it was - because it was all love and honesty and all sorts of gooey crap that I can't possibly write about because it'll sound cheesier than the worst romance novel.

You're probably imaginative enough to figure it out if you feel like it anyway.

*pauses and thinks*

Besides, when I get back from Orlando in seven months, he'll get the chance to propose again anyway. *grins*