Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The One Word I Never Said

Two college students - kids, really -  laid on the floor, hashing over their future once again.  It involved two continents, the end of a Bachelor's Degree and the beginning of a Masters, and a lot of anxiety about soulmates. 

I have to know.  I just have to KNOW, you know.  What are we trying to do here?

I love you, Kirsten.  I'll do whatever you want to do. I just know that I want to marry you.
 

Well that's all well and good, but how can you SAY that without KNOWING what we're going to DO  next year?  (What can I say? I'm a girl who likes to know The Plan.)  I just have to KNOW what it is we're planning on.  I mean, how can you say you KNOW you want to marry me but you don't KNOW when?  How?  Where?

and so on.  Around and around and around we went that night - a quiet December night in suburbia - two kids laying on the floor in my childhood bedroom.   We were either headed far apart, or headed for together from here on out.

What I remember was my voice, growing in stridency as I demanded to KNOW what was going to happen.  I wanted to KNOW how he was so sure of himself.  I remember, actually, feeling increasingly irritated with his implacability.

And finally, there was this:  Well Kirsten, then let's just get married.  Let's just get married.

This stopped me short.  I was mid-sentence - in full stride with theoreticals, full of planning, full of options.  I hadn't expected that phrase - not at all.

And just like a sail going limp on a calm sea, my words stopped.  I turned over on my elbow and demanded to know if he was serious.  Demanded.

Of course, he said simply.  Of course I'm serious.

There was no ring.  There was no elaborately crafted proposal speech.  There were no harps on the mountain at dawn, there was not even a down-on-one-knee.   We were barely adults, barely launched in the world, and all we knew was that we were going to head out into the void together.

We stared at each other - astounded that such a momentous decision had been made in the Laura Ashley chintz-covered bedroom of my teen years - and were absolutely certain that no other decision could have been made that night.

We went to the movies then, saw the Harrison Ford version of Sabrina, and came home giggling about the fact that he'd have to ask my dad for his blessing.

It wasn't until I was falling asleep that night that I realized:  the one word I never said was Yes.

Yes, Nilsen - for every night since then, I say Yes.

*****

This post is linked as part of the final prompt - YES - in Momalom's Five for Ten series.

21 comments:

Alisha said...

That is so sweet!

Sarah said...

I think for many this really IS the first moment of YES that comes into our minds. But I never said it, either. We, too, had a discussion. About a plan. About a baby as yet unborn. About responsibility and want and longing and desire and dreams. And it came to be, this marriage, in a series of these strident conversations.

Lovely lovely post recounting that moment in time. I can see you there, in your childhood home, barely an adult, making grand, sweeping statements about life, and want and future. It was a fun place to be for a while wasn't it? But more fun to remember, I think.

CaraBee said...

What a wonderful post! Beginning a life together is such a momentous decision, its funny the little things we remember about that occasion. When my husband asked me to marry him, we were in the kitchen and I looked over and noticed a big hunk of chocolate on the ceiling from a chocolate covered strawberry making incident a few weeks prior. So now, whenever I eat them, I think of that moment. And it makes me smile. Such a weird thing, but there it is.

SuziCate said...

Such a swseet story. Reminds me of me own....just blurted out of nowhere, but then he went to my house and "asked" my father!

Rudri said...

Such a nice post. I think sometimes we just know and even though we don't say yes out loud, our actions show yes. I love the way you ended your post.

becca said...

Oh how wonderful. How sweet. it just shows that the word Yes is just a word. Without the actions and the commitment to the meaning of it, it means nothing. You said yes. You just didn't say it.

postmommy said...

Very touching...and kind of funny how after all that analyzing you never even officially said, "yes" :)

michelle said...

beautiful post. and there is something to be said for a spontaneous proposal.

Belinda Munoz said...

I love the innocence of these newly minted adults. So sure and free and fearless. I think it's incredibly romantic when younger adults decide to commit. And Yes, as traditional as it may sound, it's nice to hear and say the word Yes.

Amber said...

Sometimes the unspoken "yes" is more powerful than the spoken "yes." You two started down a path that has obviously lead to amazing places. In each step, you have said yes to each other. Think about that. That's like a million yeses (or yes'?).

Cheryl said...

That is such a sweet, sweet story, my friend. That is a cool thing about meeting your One so early..you still have that youthful view of possibility, not tamped down by years and years.

alita said...

In tears.

Sometimes you don't have to say yes because your heart has already done that for you. My proposal was similar, but I said yes. We were young and in love and I will always say yes even to this day.

Your story touched my heart! Thanks for sharing it.

Aging Mommy said...

This is a beautiful story of young love, not caring about rings or fancy celebrations, just knowing you were going to be together always was more than enough. Beautifully told, I just loved reading it

Allison @ Alli 'n Son said...

Aww, such a sweet post. True, young love.

dianeswords.wordpress.com said...

this is a beautiful post. I almost feel like i've easedropped though on a very private moment between two lovers. never ever forget that promise to one another and that commitment. NEVER!!

Launa said...

Beautiful moment, beautiful memory. May you never stop saying Yes.

Harold of Scaggsville said...

Destiny faces decision and a hazy future becomes a blissful history.

Denise said...

Wow. I'm covered in goose bumps. Gorgeous post (and my first visit from FiveforTen).

Kisha said...

The first yes is so exciting, so trusting, so sure-but I hesitate to say the hardest, because I think continuing to say yes everyday, even when things get rough-that's the hard stuff. Thank you for an absolutely lovely piece. :)

Kelly said...

This is such a poignant memory about that confusing, scary time in life when anything (and nothing) seems possible. Thanks for sharing it.

Kim said...

What a sweet story. I think it's wonderful that you guys knew so early in life.

I was so unformed at that age in comparison.

Related Posts with Thumbnails