where waves grow sweet

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine. Song of Solomon 1:2

All the deep and meaningful things lined up on my post-it to share seem, frankly, too deep and meaningful today. The vast quantities of energy typically reserved for internal processing are tied up in a vaguely giddy emotional state and the very simple thought, “I’m going to be married.” I communicated this thought to John several times at dinner. Apparently he is aware of the fact. After all, he did propose in dripping cave yesterday. I, on the other hand, can’t seem to grasp it as reality. I’ve been a single mom for 15 years, haven’t had a boyfriend in 11, and have a distinct habit of steering clear of these situations. But here I am, by the grace of God and the love of a great guy. Did I mention that I’m going to be married?

Tonight we visited every jewelry shop in South Coast Plaza as I earnestly tried to convince myself that I could wear some bejeweled object on my finger. I have returned to my original knowledge that I don’t like diamonds, and will really be okay if I don’t see another one for a very long time. I like bands. Unremarkable ones, beautiful in their simplicity. I also like mismatched ones that stack up on top of each other, slightly askew, like free spirits dancing on my finger. At the end of the day, I decided that I will get a band. Unless, that is, I find a magical combination of stackable rings that makes me smile inside and feel like I do when doused with kisses as sweet and sudden as summer rain.