AMANDA: “So, we should probably talk about the wedding,” Dan said, chewing on his green bean thoughtfully and trying to ignore the baseball game going on somewhere over my head.
Me: “Mmm…yeah, I guess.”
Him: “Do you not want to talk about the wedding?”
Me, completely wiped out from several successive 80 hour weeks at work, plus stressed about our newly purchased condo and impending move: “You think I’m not excited about planning this wedding and getting married? I don’t see a ring on my finger!”
When Dan proposed a few months ago, it was very spontaneous and lovely. (It was March 12, so over 4 months ago. Not that I’m counting.) We were sort of in a fight, which ended in a discussion about “what we want out of this” and then it ended in a sweet “marry me.” And he said he would get me a ring, and transferred my silver right-hand ring to my ring finger on my left hand. It was wonderful. But now it’s been 4 months, and still no ring. He jokes that he is going to get me a birthstone ring, which would almost be fine if my birthstone wasn’t topaz. (Blue topaz is prettier than regular topaz, but I think they have to irradiate it or something.)
I know I don’t NEED a ring, but it would stop people from grabbing my hand and saying “No ring yet???” More than one person has told me they don’t consider me officially engaged because I don’t have a ring, which is about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I tend to think the really important thing here is spending our lives together. And yet I can’t quite bring myself to say “don’t worry about it – we’ll put the money into the condo instead…”