We started dating when we were 16–17. Finished high school, college, started careers. Nine years later…
I got to her house early, before she left for work, and placed a box on the roof of her car. Big bow, pretty box. Tag said “Open Me.” Inside were other nice boxes in descending size — each with different items in them and accompanying tags. “Play Me” with a cassette and our song on it. “Read Me” with a poem/love letter I wrote. Finally, “Marry Me” with the ring in it. A really nice ring, if I say so myself. I was hiding behind a shrub, waiting to walk to the car at the right moment.
At least, that was the plan.
Instead, she was running late for work (as usual), saw the box, retrieved it, stuck it in her back hall, and drove away to work.
I just stood there, in the shrub.