I am feeling a little melancholy today. I woke up this morning from having the most wonderful dream: Jesse proposed to me. We had just sat down and had another talk about where we see our relationship going over the next few months and out of his pocket he pulled a little red box. He looked so happy, said he's been carrying it around with him for a week trying to wait for the right moment and that he just couldn't stand it anymore. And unglamorously asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes. It was perfect. Then the ring magically changed in front of my eyes to a different ring, not the one I had picked out. Poor Jesse was all worried and insisted we go and get the right one. . .
Then I woke up.
There he was, sleeping with his arms around my waist, the man of my dreams. What more could I ask for? Not much, really.
But still today there is that slightly disappointed feeling clouding up my head and turning my stomach into knots. I become more aware of it when I read my friend's about me on Facebook and listen to another's plans to attend a wedding this weekend, gets to the point where I look at the ring online Jesse and I picked out a few months ago and had me sized for.
I don't know what to do to speed this up without putting too much pressure on him and our finances. . . .
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