That question lingered through the evening and into the next day. So much had happened since that fateful spring morning in Pisa. The months of conversation had opened up our souls to each other and the past few weeks together had only proven how much we wanted to be together.
But then there was reality. The reality of our abnormal situation. The reality of the difficulties arising from our different cultures and backgrounds. The reality of Mario’s departure. The reality of the continued distance. Neither of us wanted to make a hasty decision that we would later regret.
The next morning I went into work for some meetings and to catch up on some pressing matters. As had become our habit, Mario found odd jobs around the house to do in order to feel useful, made lunch and then came and picked me up. As we sat around the table, hand in hand, talking about who knows what, a feeling of peace descended. Our conversation paused as we looked at each other. And all of a sudden, I knew. I could marry this man. I wanted to marry this man. Despite the hardships and difficulties that would be our companions, I wanted to share my life with him.
As I looked over at Mario, I saw the emotions flicking across his face. His grip tightened on mine as he exhaled.
Are you ready?
Without a word, he calmly stood up, put his arm around my waist and led me out the door.
It was time to get the ring.