Begrudgingly, I put on my black and white dress that my mom had ordered me from the Victoria’s Secret catalog months prior. Seven months prior, to be exact.
Seven months prior, Fraser and I were walking on the beach in La Jolla, California following one of the nicest meals our incredibly modest salary had ever afforded. We were on the very first vacation that we had ever taken as a couple. We had been dating almost three years at the time, and one of my friends had spilled the beans. Well, maybe she spilled some of the beans. She had told me that Fraser had discussed the idea of proposing to me, and that he wanted to do it, but didn’t know the details yet. So, of course, … just like any other perfectly sane girl would … I started planning my wedding. And my proposal outfit, of course. So, my mom bought me this gorgeous black and white dress to be worn the night that I was *positive* Fraser was going to propose to me. I slipped it on that night, and waited… impatiently. I waited, and waited, and waited… when our walk on the beach ended without a ring on my finger; I did what every other girl would have done. I picked a fight. Duh. I ruined an entire day of our first vacation being a spoiled brat.
Okay, fast forward six months and three weeks later when I left my waitressing job at Applebee’s one night, and found a cute note in my car. My semester at school was almost over, and it was my senior year in college. So I didn’t think much of Fraser asking me out on a really nice date in that cute card… a date that he claimed was to celebrate the end of yet another semester.
A week later, not thinking anything of it, I put on that black and white dress with a black cardigan and headed out the door to another *very* nice restaurant (The Cheesecake Factory) according to our bank account. I ordered orange chicken. Very much a departure from my standard meal. Fraser kept disappearing to the restroom. Enough so that I thought my boyfriend was either suffering from a very small bladder, or he had a drug habit. Either way, I wasn’t impressed.
On the way home from the restaurant he would speed for a moment, and then his navy blue Nokia cell phone would buzz with a text message, and he would slow down. At one point we were even going to stop by Target, until he feigned yet another lie about needing to use the restroom, so we had to get back to our 600 sq foot apartment behind Sams Club as quickly as we could.
When we get home, he sprinted across the parking lot. Me, being my normal spoiled brat self, got annoyed and called for him to wait for me. As we approached the apartment I noticed the light coming from the blinds of our living room and asked him if we accidentally left the lights on. He opened the door and the entire apartment is covered in tea light candles. Bridal magazines lined the couch, rose petals covered the floor, and a sparkling diamond ring sat on the kitchen counter. Champagne was chilling in the fridge, and before I knew it, my boyfriend was on his knee telling me that he wanted to make his best friend his wife.
I obviously said yes.
And, ten years later, that dress is still hanging in my closet.
Frasey,
Happy anniversary of the day that I promised to be your best friend forever. It has been a pretty crazy ten years. I can’t wait to see what the next ten look like. xo. Petunia
Photo credit : Gabriel Ryan Photographers
