"You'll make a song for our wedding right?" ... argh ... well I had a bash but reading this is way more fun ....
We were sitting in a tent at Latitude on Saturday morning with a hangover and talking our unique brand of inane nonsense (presumably something occasion based), when Josh accidently dropped the bomb and said 'do you want to get married then?' I thought he meant in general and I said yeah. Then there was silence. But like S I L E NCE. Loaded actually.
Eye contact, some deep thought, we're a bit like, is he? Am I? Are we?
He didn't have a ring but he did have a Cherry Coke because that's all I ever want when I'm hungover and we high fived on it. So, like, that's fine and everything but it's not serious right? 'You're not serious?'
He said he was, and not only that, but also this was his proposal, the only one I would get, but if I wanted him to be joking he could be joking and why didn't I just go ahead and give it some thought and let him know. He looked a bit hurt. I took my cherry coke and ran.
At the Choose What You Read shed (sorry, library) I told them what happened. Everyone went high-pitch; a sure sign that something big had happened. Hannah asked if it was this morning or last night, I told her it was just now, she said that means it's definitely serious. I started sweating, panic pending.
Hannah asked what I'd said, I wasn't sure what I'd said, she told me if I said anything except a capital hearty yes I was a fucking fucking idiot and should fucking go and say fucking yes right fucking now actually.
She had a point.
'Congratulations' was hanging in the air. Congratufuckinglations?
So I slept on it, or rather drank on it, or rather sat on it until we caught up later when I saw Josh I said Hey hubby, and he said 'yeah?' and I said yeah and then we drank on it all together and I felt a bit weird actually. I knew I would marry him when we started going out but actually getting married? Rah.
We had a good time at Latitude, spent the best part of Saturday night sat under a tree talking about all the (mental) stuff we would have at the party and being a bit sickly really. Then on Sunday I had to go back to London and the boys stayed there to do marketing and flirt with campers.
On Monday when Josh was heading back to our house I was the perfect little wife, I had dinner on the way (from the pizza place), I undid his shoes, tidied and was all round on my best missus behaviour. Until about midnight, when I realised he wasn't saying anything and I wasn't saying anything and maybe, maybe it was one of those festival antics that just... stays at the festival.
Now I'm thinking fuck, ok, well it's a neat get out anyway, I'm not sure I'm ready for a wedding but shit, if we are going to pretend nothing happened there are about 10 people I need to call and retract my story to, like, now. Then I had a tiny cry on my own and an epic public sulk.
I stormed off to bed and sulked with my back to the man. Gutted mate.
The next day I got up early still in a capital huff (do you know me well enough to know how scary I can go when fury strikes? No? Lucky for you). I made tea with as much slamming about as possible (no kettle = well slammy). Josh mooched into the kitchen all dozy and told me he had mental dreams about poker tables and me in a tree or something. I went all WHATEVER and slammed back to bed with my tea. He meeks in after me. 'Did you have any weird dreams?'
'YEAH actually I dreamt I went to a festival and my boyfriend proposed and I said yes and then after he pretended nothing happened and I was GUTTED'
Then he went down on both knees and presented me with a cup of tea and asked again and said he did mean it and he thought it was me who wasn't saying anything and he wants to marry me always and would I please marry him and have some tea.
So I said yes and now we're getting married. Details pending. Eek.