I got engaged.
I got engaged after 7 years, 11 months, and 10 days of dating a guy who has not only become my best friend but is truly in every sense of the phrase my better half.
I questioned how I would divulge this, talk about it, dictate it to people because we spent the majority of the morning after it occurred having it be a secret between us. I enjoyed those hours. It made the whole thing feel special and utterly us. I'm not one who enjoys talking about myself. I'm not one who likes being the center of attention so discussing it in any way feels strange. But when you feel giddy and you glow and you smile whenever you look over at the guy you are going to marry, you can't help but want to let people know. (I've caught myself looking at him when we are at the gym and thinking to myself I get to marry this guy. It's the most absurdly amazing thought ever.)
Whenever I envisioned getting engaged I always thought about what I would eat after. What I would cook after. What would I be craving. (Once a foodie always a foodie.) That dish ended up being cheesy avocado scrambled eggs, toast, a large coffee, and an almond chocolate croissant eaten while the snow fell outside. We were clothed in sweatpants and over-sized sweaters and our adorable Christmas tree (aka Stanley) lit the room up. It felt special yet utterly normal and impossibly us. It was what I always envisioned my proposal being like but a thousand times better. It was comforting and warm and perfect in every sense of the word.
So I'm engaged and I'm thrilled and that guy I love will someday by my husband and that's a thought that is weirdly frightening yet comforting at the same time.
(To note. The film Pitch Perfect was watched while we ate breakfast which makes the whole thing feel even more us. If you haven't seen Pitch Perfect, I'm not sure if we can be friends.)