I had a stressful job. One of those where I would either come home at the end of the day and flop on the couch or come home and start drinking immediately. This day happened to be the latter. It was a particularly grueling day and I was unhappily anticipating the laundry that awaited me (you know, the tire tracks from being thrown under the bus and a stab wound in the back? THAT kind of laundry.) Regardless, I began telling the tales of co-worker treachery when the waterworks started. They were the angry, unattractive tears that seem to come only when you can only catch your breath a little at a time and the story starts and stops in 2-to-3 word increments. My boyfriend only stood there, listening, and occasionally opening up another beer when mine inevitably ran out.
At one point, I had worked myself up into such a pity-party rage that I looked at him and said, “That place makes me so mad that I just…I just..I just wanna THROW SOMETHING.”
My boyfriend looked at me and handed me an empty beer bottle.
I didn’t say a word. I just tossed that empty bottle across the kitchen and into the laundry room door. When it clattered to the floor without breaking I started to cry even more (which I didn’t even think was possible at that point.) He walked over, picked up the bottle, and gave it back to me. I then threw it at the wall, even harder, and then let out a cry of relief as it shattered to the floor.
Of course, even in my *lovely* state, I realized broken glass should be cleaned up and I dejectedly got the broom and dust pan to clean up my temper tantrum.
My boyfriend got down and started to help me when he looked at me and said, “Marry me.”
Of course, I thought maybe he, too, had too much of a 6-pack when I tearily responded with, “Huh?”
Again, he repeated, “Marry me.”
THAT’S when the real, best kind of tears started flowing and I hugged him over a dustpan full of broken glass and screamed “YES!” at the top of my lungs.
Our story doesn’t involve a ring in a cake, a flash mob, or a hidden camera. It involves my now husband seeing me at my absolute worst and somehow deciding we should spend our lives together.
We’re still together and we celebrate 5 years in May.
Moral of the story? Sometimes you just feel like throwing something. Sometimes it results in a mess. Sometimes it doesn’t 🙂