On Valentine's Day, my wonderful boyfriend of 4 1/2 years, Kris, took a walk with me through Smithville Village. While we were on the bridge over the pond, watching the lights bouncing off the surface of the water, he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I said yes. We're engaged. We're getting married.
I have wanted this, and not just this as in "getting married" but this as in "marrying this man," for a very long time and we are both sublimely happy. I am going to marry a man I love who completes me and complements me perfectly. We make each other happy and support each other and we're both tremendously excited to commit to love each other for the rest of our lives.
Most girls want to know about the ring. Pictures don't do it justice, but here's a taste.
The morning after I said yes, when I woke up with a huge smile on my face, the first thing I did was go out to the living room and watched this, because it's how I feel.
I only know that he'll make me happy. That's all I need to know.