sometimes, someone else's brain says the things that your brain wants to say, only with infinitely more eloquence

i'm questioning whether this wily brunette stole my journal and copied it onto her blog...

"So my dearest, darling-est, dreamiest husband-to-be, know this...
don't take me to the opera. or the rainbow room. don't make it a carriage ride through central park or a weekend getaway. i'm not even sure i need you to get on one knee. but do it on the door step. on the front stoop. sitting next to me. on the same level. turn to me and ask me to be your best friend, your lover, your absolute equal. so that then we can go inside and begin our life together, as we've always known we should.

That being said, you sure as hell better ask my father first. I believe in chivalry."