Well, then, your hands are cold
In other words, yes.
Dear Reader,
If you’ve been wondering if I fell off the face of the planet, I did, in a way.
I said yes to the man I love and seem to be spinning from one galaxy into another on the word yes while all other worlds are slowing fading away.
Our engagement took place on a Monday afternoon in December, totally capturing me by surprise, proved by my no-makeup-sweatshirt-no-shower look I was rocking at the time. (I got dressed up later to go out and celebrate and take those photos!)
Look at us! *happy sigh*
When I was a freshman in college, a new adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice featuring Kiera Knightley and Matthew Macfayden was released. I went with a gaggle of my girlfriends to see it in theaters and we all swooned over Mr. Darcy walking through the dewy field at sunrise to meet Elizabeth Bennett and profess his love for her once again:
“You have bewitched me, body and soul and I love—I love— I love you” — my whole row of friends were gasping and grabbing each others hands, our little tiny uteruses convulsing feverishly— “I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.”
“Well, then” she says, and walks towards him, grabbing his hands to kiss them, “your hands are cold.”
Your hands are cold?
Really, Elizabeth Bennett? Who wrote this script? I was convinced that romance demanded a better response.
I would not have believed the life I have lived in the twenty years since my time as a college freshman if you sat next to me that day and told me what was to come.
This is how it should be, after all, the living begets more living.
So as I sat with my beloved and was asked that one question (I think before I said yes I said, now?— romantic, right?) I understood that (scripted) pure reply.