THE PROPOSAL

"Andy?" I whisper, a whisper that can only be heard by me, and maybe the components of the air surrounding me are not more than a centimetre away.

Andy?

My Greek beauty god, my prince charming, my knight in shining armour, the apple of my eye, my rib, and my sweet beloved Andy are right in front of me. I won't say he is standing before me because he is not standing. He is down on one knee, a shining precious jewel dazzling in one hand, his gorgeous dark brown eyes on me, and a half-smile on his lips. I am in dreamland, right? I believe I am, and that is why I have to take slow, weak steps, driven by confusion towards this man in front of me, to confirm whether this is a fairytale. Or a sweet dream. If it is, then I want to live in this moment forever. But if this is real, I will treasure this moment my entire life.

I take slow, calculated steps forward, my eyes full of questions and uncertainty, not leaving his. I want him to give me a sign that I am not dreaming, but he seems lost