Signs Hes Proposing
Signs Hes Proposing
Last summer, I found myself in Paris, wandering through the narrow cobblestone lanes of Montmartre, barely noticing the art that spilled out of café doors, oblivious to the sweet aroma of crepes mingling with the chatter of eager tourists. My mind was elsewhere, fixated on the potential reality that my boyfriend, Tom, might be on the brink of proposing. It wasn’t just a girl's intuition; there were signs—telltale clues that seized my imagination and made my heart race with anticipation.
Tom had been dropping hints for months, like the time we walked past a jewelry shop, and he looked, not at the sparkling display, but deeply into my eyes, saying, “I’ve always imagined you with something timeless, like a solitaire.” This was peculiar because, ordinarily, his eyes were glued to vintage vinyl stores or local comic book shops, oblivious to the allure of diamonds. Besides, he'd started scouting for a suit, a task he usually avoided with the same vigor as one might sidestep a puddle in the middle of a rainy street. He kept saying he needed to be prepared for an important event—not his style at all unless it was something grand.
Then, there was the matter of his newfound curiosity about my jewelry tastes. “Do you prefer white gold or platinum?” he asked casually one Sunday morning over pancakes. My heart did a little flip. Tom had never been interested in the specifics of jewelry, apart from noting how pretty they looked. But now, he was keenly attentive, asking about ring designs I'd never mentioned liking and seeming deeply invested in every answer.
His mom also started dropping by unannounced, far more than usual, each time with a gleam in her eye that could light up a room. I remember one particular afternoon when her gaze lingered on mine a second too long before she broke into an all-too-innocent chat about “big family gatherings”. Was it a coincidence or an orchestrated scheme? My curiosity piqued, I began piecing together these interactions like a detective on the brink of solving a mystery.
Of course, there were financial questions too. Tom, who typically cruised through life with the financial planning of a sitcom character, had suddenly started talking about savings and investments, and he'd even asked me about hypothetical future expenses. It was as if he was trying to assemble a puzzle, the final piece leading to a scene in which he'd drop to one knee.
Yet, I knew nothing was certain until it happened. For all his peculiar behavior, there was still the possibility that I was weaving castles in the sky. But in the back of my mind, in a place where hope dared to flutter, I felt that familiar thrill of love's possibility—a proposal was imminent. Looking back now, even the subtle signs were loud and clear, each woven with a thread of intention that was both endearing and nerve-wracking.
It was one misty evening by the Seine when Tom’s eyes met mine, and without uttering a word, he told me everything. The gentle rustle of leaves above us, the hush of the river, and the crescent moon casting its blessings made it perfect. As he knelt, the weight of expectation lifted, replaced by a lightness I’d never known. Sometimes, the signs we seek are simply preludes, orchestrating beautiful moments that surpass our wildest imaginations.
