Engaged to be married... one day

News of my engagement have been met with mixed reactions. 

Some are happy as it means they can either go ahead with their elaborate wedding planning (my girlfriends) or continue holidaying in Spain (my niece). Some are jubilant as it seems to prove them that putting your faith in treasure maps and universe boxes really works. Some are just excited about having a party to attend- and my brother to ogle (my gay friends). 

Some don't know what to make. And I'm starting to realize they've been vying for The Man's position for a while now. Some simply refuse to believe anything will come out of this (my football friends). 

I personally just feel... knackered. It's been such a long and arduous journey. I know how Arsene Wenger would feel, should he ever get to lift Premier league trophy again. And as a result of the anti-climax that was the hapless proposal I mainly feel like I've proposed to myself. Knackered, yes. Elated? No.

"But you should!" exclaimed The Man- still seemingly oblivious as to how he failed to live up to the expectations of The Grand Gesture. Considering how he'd talked about proposing before and clearly had put some thought into it I just had to know why he'd executed it when he did and the way he did. "Mmwellyaknowmmssrp" is pretty much what I got out of him. 

"C'mon!" I cried, exasperated. "You're going to have to give me something over here! Exactly how long then you have been thinking about proposing to me?

"Since I met you" he said. Awww. That must be the sweetest lie he's ever told me.