These last few months haven’t been the easiest. Me and Sav were thrown around timezones and after eighteen months of waiting, we were forced to move countries to simply be together. And as horrible as it sounds, the decision to go together was made in a wingbeat. There was never any doubt that we’d follow each other across oceans and even the most difficult times were made easier just by knowing we had each other. We had a mini time apart from one another during August so I could finish up with work and tie up some loose ends and honestly, that one month felt like a lifetime. Fast forward to September and seeing her for the first time almost made the missing worth it. It was then on this night, on this bridge where I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me. It is funny the earthquakes we became even during certainty. On this night I was an eleven on the richter scale, the nerves rattling around inside of me despite me having absolute faith that the answer would be yes.

After nearly five years of being together, I have had many moments where I pondered on the grand nature of a proposal. Where I thought of the countless ways I could make it a spectacle but recently I realised there was nothing grander than the two of us being together and facing all that there is to face as one. I didn’t need no marching band or fireworks to confess my love and guarantee it forever. I needed a wooden bridge, a couple lights and two heartbeats in sync. I believe there is a lot of pressure around proposals and getting it perfect but perfect is subjective. She said ‘of course’ and we sat on the edge of a canal in Amsterdam and drank chocolate milk and gazed at the waters reflections and laughed and I wished more than ever that time could stand still so we could be in that moment a little longer. Perfect is subjective and I will never forget this little dose of perfection.

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