As much as I want to tell a story of how grand epiphanies of love occur, everything simply felt right—like everything was in place. That was the moment I knew I wanted to propose.
The country’s weather bureau issued a Tropical Cyclone Wind Signal Number 3 warning as Typhoon Paeng was closing in on the areas of Metro Manila and Southern Luzon on October 29, 2022. I remember it clearly, because this was the day I decided to propose to my girlfriend Sandy.
Drenched in sweat and rainwater, I held a ring box aloft with my clammy palms as I eagerly waited for my girlfriend’s response to my asking her hand in marriage. You may be thinking, is this some poor planning, especially since a proposal is one of the most intimate expressions of love and commitment a person does for their partner?
Having already moved between three locations, my nerves were getting ahead of me. Nearby cars started bowing out with their hazard lights blinking faintly as they passed by us. The umbrella I held for the both us barely contained the rain anymore. I had to regain my composure.
While it can be said that my timing was less than perfect, in a tradition that shares its heritage with “caveman courtship” wherein a prehistoric person would “propose” to their selected partner by fashioning grass into ropes and capturing them, I’d say my chosen method is more evolved. Gone are the days of the farcical notion of choosing a life partner by simply knocking them with a club as made famous by the film The Three Ages (1924) starring Buster Keaton. Nowadays, it’s much more inclusive and it can be done in a multitude of ways.
To be honest, there’s something even more telling about the exact moment someone decides they want to propose and spend the rest of their life with one particular person. In my experience, I can recall a certain moment that clicked when I felt certain and humbled. And while it may not be as important as the proposal, it is equally meaningful.
The moment I knew
That moment came on the first day of the new year in 2022.
I had known for a long time that I would one day propose to her. It was not out of arrogance but because of our openness in talking about it over the years, our continuous effort to build our relationship as partners, and becoming each other’s biggest support system—not just for one another, but also for ourselves.
Riding on the high of the holiday season, it was the first time since the pandemic that festivities closely resembled what we were accustomed to a few years back. Sandy and I had a debilitating flu on the morning of New Year’s Day. The news was handed to us by the flimsy plastic test kits we stared at for 15 minutes straight while sneezing uncontrollably after doing the tests on each other.
With crumpled tissues and the smell of fruity drinks wafting in the house, we hunkered down on the sofa fighting the effects of medicines lulling us to sleep. We’re doing what we call parallel play—or doing things separately together. She was scrolling through her phone while I was reading a novel.
I sit up trying to adjust and find a speck of comfort amid my burning fever and nausea. A laugh blurted out to my left as she looked to her screen delighted by the latest exploits of an otter doing adorable things. As I sat back down, my whole back and left elbow were firmly supported by throw pillows and cushions, which belatedly I realized, Sandy positioned there.
One can’t always learn how to love directly. Sometimes, several other seemingly disconnected and indirect things need to happen before you figure it out.
I don’t know how to describe it. Everything simply felt right—like everything was in place. The physical comfort was apparent but the silent reassurance of her care combined subtlety and compassion. As much as I want to tell a story of how grand epiphanies of love occur, for myself, it was that moment when I knew exactly that I wanted to propose.
I have no exact words for it. Was it the adorably maniacal laugh at the otters? Or was it the one-handed rearrangement of pillows that made sure I was comfortable sitting down surrounded by a landmine of minty inhalers and throat sprays? One thing I knew for sure, even in our least exciting moments, she can always bring a smile to my face effortlessly.
The proposal day
Fast forward to the day of the proposal following nine months of planning, seeking her family’s blessing, and countless trips to the jeweler who had to decipher my drawings of ring designs that captured all of Sandy’s preferences. It all built up to the moment of going on one knee and popping the question.
I came prepared. I enlisted the help of her sisters who were indispensable in throwing her off the scent of the proposal. On the day itself, they had scouted the area I originally had in mind. The university where I graduated was surrounded by countless memories where we spent our college years. Plans A through C seemed foolproof. Little did we know, that most areas would be pooled with water from the storm or made risky due to inaccessibility and slippery surfaces.
Having already moved between three locations, my nerves were getting ahead of me. Nearby cars started bowing out with their hazard lights blinking faintly as they passed us by. The umbrella I held for the both of us barely contained the rain anymore and was relegated to a mere colorful accessory. I caught myself from spiraling. I had to regain my composure.
She was in a good mood despite the weather. Meanwhile, there I was figuratively rifling through plans in my head on how to salvage the day as I practiced it. As my mind wandered, I was reminded of the moment when I knew I wanted to marry Sandy. All the emotions came flooding in from how easy and endearing her simple act nine months prior made me realize that true love often thrives in the ordinary, not just in grand gestures.
I got down on one knee and recited my speech as best I could. Stumbling through my words as I felt the rain weigh onto my soaked jacket, the question left my breath as if the words I just uttered weren’t mine. The light eked out beneath the umbrella falling as S knelt, then responded with the most beautiful syllable a person in my position could ever hope to hear, “Yes.”
In Eric Fromm’s classic work The Art of Loving (1956), he argues loving relationships often take continuous effort and practice. It’s not purely romantic love, where everything is magical and instantaneous, rather it should be regarded as an art form that one must work on and respect.
He also said this one thing that still resonates with me to this day. He spoke on how one can’t always learn how to love directly; sometimes, several other seemingly disconnected and indirect things need to happen before you figure it out.
The other details behind planning the proposal can perhaps be a story for another day. However, the moment I’ve kept to myself that led to all of this is something I will now cherish and share with my fiancée.
If you’re wondering, I was able to ask a photographer, now a friend, to hide behind the bushes and capture this unforgettable moment in our relationship.
