Did you ever dream about the moment you would be asked the big question? The heart-stopping, limb-trembling, time-stands-still moment your beloved would drop to his knee and ask you to be his wife?
It's the climax of a million movies, TV shows and love stories. My favourites? Colin Firth's proposal in botched Portuguese to Aurelia in 'Love Actually'; Matthew popping the question to Lady Mary amidst glitz, glamour and snowflakes in 'Downton Abbey'; and the swoon-worthy conclusion of 'Pride and Prejudice' when Matthew MacFadyen's Darcy declares his undying love for Keira Knightley's Elizabeth amidst the eerie mist of dawn.
What must be a hugely nerve-wracking moment for the chaps isn't helped by these starry-eyed celluloid moments, or the proliferation of proposal videos on the internet. YouTube is awash with all-out declarations of love, which range from the elaborate and the innovative to the heart-meltingly romantic.
There's the guy who pops the question at Disneyland, amidst the carefully planned all-singing, all-dancing theatrics of Disney's employees and an audience of a few hundred tourists. Then there's the guy who gets his girlfriend to sit in the back of a slowly moving car as family and friends - together with a marching band - proceed to perform a choreographed dance while lip synching to Bruno Mars' 'Marry You' before he proposes at the tear-jerking climax. Then there's the guy who creates a super-realistic mock movie trailer and screens it in a cinema, concluding with a proposal to his stunned girlfriend. Look them up and prepare to sob.
Despite enjoying the odd rom-com, romantic novel and - clearly - proposal video on YouTube, I never really daydreamed about how it would be for me, where it would happen or how I would react. Not even during one of my most ardent infatuations with Johnny Depp/the hot guy on 'Neighbours'/the cute boy on holiday when my whimsies were at their most teenage-hormone-fuelled fanciful.
I had been with Brendan for seven years when he asked me to marry him. From our first encounter in a hideously cheesy nightclub to the hilarious (well, we thought so) texts exchanged from our university hovels; from our first holiday amidst the crisp snow and thermal waters of Budapest to the DIY traumas and blissful satisfaction of moving into our first home, I didn't stop to contemplate that moment. I just eased into that comfortable sense of togetherness, knowing that marriage was a chapter that lay ahead somewhere, perhaps some way off, on the horizon.
So when the moment came, I was stunned. You see, Brendan likes to think of himself as one of life's mavericks. He was never going to propose in a fancy restaurant, on a beach at sunset or under a tinsel-strewn Christmas tree.
No. He chose a grey, unfeasibly wet day in June. We were coming up to our print deadline for the magazine and I was holed up at my desk in my least flattering - but oh-so comfy - clothes tapping away at a laptop cradled by empty coffee cups. Brendan announced that we were going for a walk. I remember looking at the rain running down my window. And agreed, reluctantly.
So we set off in the car, over the moor towards Zennor. Just as we went over the brow of the hill, where, if it weren't for the inky black clouds, you'd usually catch the first glimpse of my favourite view - all ancient granite-cropped landscape and wild Atlantic Ocean - Brendan pulled the car into the side of the road. And popped the question.
No grand gestures; no meticulously edited video; no carefully orchestrated series of events leading to a YouTube-worthy moment. It was simple, heartfelt and beautifully 'us' - just me, Brendan, a gorgeous ring (and a sad pony peering at us over a gate and Elton John's 'Bennie and the Jets' stuck in the stereo bleating 'Bennie' over and over again - but we won't go into that).
I didn't say yes straight away. It happened so fast that I struggled to take it all in. I asked Brendan to take me down to the coastal path, drop to one knee and ask the question against the wild, windswept drama and roaring Atlantic swell. He did. And I said yes.
I guess, deep down, I'm a sucker for a spot of romance and drama after all.
How did your fiance propose to you? Find Wed on Facebook or Twitter and share your story
Copyright Wed magazine 2014
