Billy and I had met a couple of weeks before he had some friends coming to visit from El Salvador. By this time, Billy and I were already inseparable - I was practically living in his tiny apartment with him when his 3 friends arrived. It was terrific to meet them and get to know him better through his friends. Their second night in town, we all went out to bar for drinks. Well, everyone had their *fair share* of adult beverages and Billy seemed to forget the fact that he was entertaining guests. He started telling me how much he cared about me, right at the table, right there in front of his friends. I turned bright red and told him to stop, that his friends were right here, this isn't the time, not the place!
I know what you're thinking - he proposed. No. Sorry to let you down. But that was the first time he told me he loved me, at that table, in a bar, in front of his best friends. Ironically, they thought, because of my reaction, that we were breaking up! Quite the opposite. :) Since that night, we have probably said those three little words to each other every day. Some people believe if you say it too much, it loses its meaning. Well, I'm not one of those people. I like saying it and I like hearing it. And now its always the last thing we say to each other.
Us, about a week before this little story...
Its something we will teach our children, too. I have known a lot of people that rarely say "I love you" to their parents and I think that's sad. I hope they learn from us that the words are important and that everyone needs to hear it, every day.
What's your love story? Join the fun at Proposal 2.o!