Kealoha and I are getting married! Woohooo! That’s right. We’re going to get hitched. I’m going to be his ball and chain. I’m going to wear curlers and a bad robe and fuzzy slippers and he’s going to mow the lawn wearing tall brown socks and his boxers. It’s so romantic, I can barely even talk about it.
Honestly, Kealoha is a dream come true. For real. A year and a half ago, I wrote a Letter to the Universe stating the things I was looking for in a partner. If I can find it, I’ll re-post it. The letter is hokey, sentimental, and filled with longing. It was a wish made…and somehow it’s been granted. Kealoha is, I think, my missing piece. He makes all the clichés feel real.
I could go on and on, but instead I’ll tell about looking for the ring. We’ve been talking about getting married for a while. It’s one of the reasons he moved in. We wanted to make sure that we ‘fit’. Both in terms of our lifestyles, but also with being a family. Maybe he’d find dating a woman with kids overwhelming. Maybe I’d be annoyed with him. Maybe we’d hate each other. Maybe the kids would hate him. The opposite proved to be true. It was all easy. And I still haven’t gotten annoyed with him. So...we decided we were ready to get married. We both want it. We want the party and the symbolic gesture of joining our lives. And Kealoha said he wanted me to have a ring.
The problem was…what sort of ring? Originally, I told Kealoha to look for something and that it didn’t matter. I just said “something not traditional”. I had no idea how many rings were out there. We were sitting on the couch and he mentioned that he wasn’t sure what to do and he was a little overwhelmed, so I grabbed his iPad and said “Let me look” and started my online search for a ring.
There’s like a million things that pop up when you search for a ring. I knew I didn’t want the diamond solitaire. Diamonds to me are more about money than a commitment. Plus, I never know when a diamond is real or not. And they get caught on everything and snag and Kealoha and I decided we wanted to wear just wedding bands…so I wanted a ring I could wear in my right hand once we were married. Something classy like and simple.
I immediately searched for RING and then ONE RING thinking that’d simplify it. This is what popped up with ONE RING.
I pointed to it and said: “This is the ring I want. Can you get on that please?”
Kealoha: “You want me to give you My Precious?”
Me: “Yes. Now.”
Kealoha shrugged and said: “Okay, let me just journey to Mordor first.”
I thought that might take a while so I changed my search. I wanted either an opal or a moon ring. The moon rings, though, were a little weird. And I’m not like a Wiccan or Renaissance woman.
I searched dozens of pages, ring after ring after ring. They were just bad. Gaudy, too big, too small, too many stones. I just wanted something simple and elegant. Something that didn’t suck.
I typed in RING THAT DOESN’T SUCK and got a Facebook page called “Just because I got a tongue ring doesn’t mean I suck dick”. I asked Kealoha if we should join that page. I don’t think he answered me.
Then I gave in and checked Tiffany’s and then Jarrods and then Zales. Muther humper! I was giving in to The Man! I did try to go a non-traditional route though.
And then I found it. As soon as it popped up on screen, I knew it was right. Simple, elegant, I can wear it on my other hand and it’s an opal which reminds me of the moon and the sea and the stars.
Yes I’m getting poetic, but you’ve got to cut me some slack.
Kealoha ordered it for me. We waited….and waited…and went mushroom hunting…and last night he gave me the ring and told me that he loved me and told the kids that he loved them and asked if I would marry him. I said No. That was mean. I shouldn’t have done that. Then I said “Yes”. I keep saying yes. Don’t ask to borrow money from me right now because I’d probably say yes to that too.
The short story is…Kealoha makes me happy. Knowing him, loving him, all that stuff has been incredibly easy. I thought love would be hard work and a fight. I never imagined it could be so effortless.
And that’s truly a wonderful thing. No joke.