As I was absent last week, I missed the Words of a Wanton Woman topic. And since I'm a stubborn biotch, I'm writing about last week's topic today. So there.
I was engaged once.
Yup. Was. Honest to blog.
I'll wait for your shock to subside.
I knew Joe (not his real name) in high school. He was my friend's pesky younger brother. Apparently he had a crush on me back then. But I just thought he was irritating.
I met him again in May of 2005. I had just been through one of the toughest years of my life and was in a very vulnerable place emotionally and looking back? I think Joe spotted that. He found a girl who feeling low and moved right in.
Since this post is supposed to be about his proposal, I'll just briefly say how Joe was by far one of the worst guys I dated. He was controlling and manipulative and moved much too fast for my comfort but he had convinced me we were meant for each other and that I wouldn't do better and because I was so wounded from the prior year's events, I believed him.
Side note: Joe never hit me. But I understand now how perfectly intelligent and strong women can end up in an abusive relationship. These kinds of men find you when you're at your lowest and take advantage of that.
Anyway, he even moved in without asking me. It began as long distance and he went to school near me. So it started with overnight bags then a drawer of stuff and then before I knew it, he lived there. I felt trapped but didn't do anything about it.
We had discussed getting engaged, had even looked at rings (I of course didn't want a real diamond because we all know how I feel about the diamond trade), but I'd thought we were looking for some point way in the future when we both felt ready.
And I guess he was ready. Even though it had only been like 4 or 5 months.
It was his birthday and I don't even remember what I bought him, but it was in a large gift bag with lots of tissue paper. He fumbled around with the bag for like 3 minutes until I was thinking, Can he not find it? Pretty sure I put a gift in there.
He pulled out a velvet box and asked me point blank would I marry him.
I sat confused for a good minute.
Thought, I do not want to marry this guy.
And then I said yes.
Brilliant, I am.
And then I stared at my hand in shock and something akin to horror for a few days until I had a panic attack and gave him back the ring.
We didn't break up. Lasted another six months or so. Until I finally had the courage to break it off.
But he managed to make my life hell for some months after that. But that's a story for another day.
Pee ess? Therapy is a beautiful thing. I highly recommend it.
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