(My boyfriend and I have discussed eventually wanting to get married in the future but never put any plans into motion. So, I order a simple ring with a fried egg on it. Around Christmas, I give it to him.)

Me: “Hey, sweetie, open this.”

Boyfriend: *opening the box* “What is this?”

Me: “It is your egg-agement ring.”

(I got hit with a pillow, but we’ve been happily married for a year now.)

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(I am on my second day of severe food poisoning when my girlfriend and I decide we absolutely have to go to the urgent care to get me feeling better, knowing I have to get at least an IV. Two weeks ago, I purchased an engagement ring and had been planning on proposing the day I got sick. Being overly romantic is something I have never been accused of, and this time is no different. We are halfway down the highway to urgent care when I painfully shift towards her in the car and pull out the ring. She takes one look at it and nearly drives us into the wall in shock… and holds out her right hand.)

Me: “No… I actually do mean the other hand…”

(She starts crying and hands me her left hand, all the while trying not to crash, and I flop back down weakly into the seat.)

Me: “So… is that a yes?”

(Luckily, yes, it was a yes. When we tell the story of how we got engaged, we like to say it was only because I didn’t think I was going to live long enough to “have to actually get married”!)

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(I’ve dated guys, not a lot, but enough to make me wary of being geeky or showing how much I like to read. When I say I like to read, I mean I have over a thousand books and am constantly buying more. A lot of the guys I’ve dated have told me that I should downsize my books because they don’t really want to date a girl who reads. I have been in a solid long-distance relationship for about eight months now with this guy who is really just the best thing that ever happened to me. We are discussing the fact of my lease running out in about two months and if it would be better for me to extend my lease for six months or not.)

Me: “Well, it might be better for me to do that, so that I can find a place I like better, maybe with more storage space. Though I just hate the idea of moving… so many trips to the truck and up and down the stairs… It’s horrible.”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, those stairs will be killer for sure.”

Me: “I’m not giving up my books.”

Boyfriend: “O…kay?”

Me: “I know that’s where your mind was going, because everyone tells me that, but I’m not giving up my books.”

Boyfriend: “Did I ask you to? Did I say, ‘[My Name] I want you to be unhappy, dull, and boring; please give up the thing that makes your eyes sparkle and makes you laugh.’? Did I say I want you to stop being you?”

Me: *now embarrassed* “Well, no, but—”

Boyfriend: “No, listen. Does this make you happy?”

Me: “Yes?”

Boyfriend: “Do you pay all your bills on time with money left over? Do you feel joy at your collection? Do you read them?”

Me: “Yes, to all of those.”

Boyfriend: “Then why on earth would I tell you to get rid of them? In fact, I think you need another book, just to get rid of this mindset that people want you to be unhappy! Get your shoes, woman; we are going to the bookstore!”

Me: *teary eyed* “I think I love you.”

Boyfriend: “I know.”

(Yes, we did end up getting a book at the bookstore. He ended up proposing that night, and I accepted!)

(One of my long-term friends has a pretty unconventional way of doing things, and this unusual streak runs through every aspect of his life. He tells me this story about a conversation he had with his girlfriend at home.)

Friend: “[Girlfriend], we need to talk about something.”

Girlfriend: “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

Friend: “I don’t think I want you to be my girlfriend anymore.”

Girlfriend: “Sure, so what do you want to talk about?”

Friend: “I’m being serious; I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore.”

Girlfriend: “Er… what?”

Friend: “Yeah, I just felt it wasn’t working, so, yeah, we’re going to have to reevaluate things between us.”

Girlfriend: *getting pretty angry* “Are you even going to give me a reason? You can’t just stroll in and dump me and expect me to fine with it. Are you seeing someone else?”

Friend: “Not at all. I just don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore…” *gets down on one knee and produces a ring* “… because I’d much rather have you as my fiancée, instead.”

Girlfriend: *in tears and borderline hysterical* “YOU A**HOLE! YES!”

(He then calmed her down and took her out to her favourite restaurant for a meal. I told him that the fact she didn’t at least backhand him for that is proof that they’re made for each other.)

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(My girlfriend and I — also female — have been dating for six years, and recently moved to Italy together as we are both archaeologists. I decide to talk a bit about the future while we’re watching TV.)

Me: “Do you ever think about the future?”

Girlfriend: “Sometimes, I guess. I prefer to think about now. Why? Am I still in your future?”

Me: “Oh, yeah. But only for one more week.”

([Girlfriend] looks at me in horror.)

Me: “I’m joking! Don’t look so scared! You should know me by now!”

(She relaxes.)

Girlfriend: “Good, because you’re in my future to stay.”

(A week later I take her out to dinner, something we don’t do very often, and then for a walk in the nearby park. It’s clear to her that this is something special, but she doesn’t ask any questions.)

Me: “You remember how I said you were only going to be my girlfriend for one more week?”

(The horrified look returns. I turn to face her and get down on one knee.)

Me: “How about being my fiancée, instead?”

(She said yes, and we both cried. A year later, she isn’t my fiancée anymore; she’s my wife.)

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