Angelina

The most wonderful woman in the world I’ve ever met is my beloved Angelina. Her eyes find a way of locking me into a deep gaze where I can just stare at them, without even realizing it. Her smile is so cute, with dimples on each side. She has a giggle that makes me smile every single time. I could go on for hours talking about how she makes me laugh, how much of a better man she makes me, and how amazing she has been in my life. She is the love of my life, and I strive to make her happy in any way I can. If you haven’t found this kind of love, I sincerely hope you do, it’s worth every second of your life.

Our first date was four years ago, but we’ve known each other for about five years now. She was a hairdresser, and she’d cut my hair once a month. I never really cared too much about my hair or its appearance, but she was worth the visit. She doesn’t cut hair anymore, but she’ll still cut mine from time to time.

Asking Angelina out was one of the most anxiety-inducing things I had ever done. I was single for a while, I never really made much time for dates, and I felt like a waste of all their time. I was so nervous, I could never tell when she was just being polite or if she was actually flirting. My responses to her were always kind of short, but she would always find a way to get me talking more. Eventually, I became much more confident in talking about myself, and soon after, I decided to take the chance and ask her on a date. Funnily enough, she was the one that encouraged me, kind of.

Since I was twenty-six at the time, I told her I was having doubts about going back to college. I felt like it was too late for me. Angelina asked me what I would study. I told her that I wanted to get into radio, joking that I have a face for it. She convinced me to go for it with a simple question, “Well, no matter what, you’ll be thirty in four years; there’s no doubt about it. However, would you rather be thirty without a degree, or thirty with the ability to follow your dreams?” This simple question made me realize that time is slipping away. I had to make the decision: would I rather be thirty, feasibly be in love or thirty, knowing I had never taken the risk.

When I asked her out, I felt like the only one in the entire building with her, but somehow as if all the eyes were on me. I must have been sweating because she looked concerned before I even opened my mouth. I decided to write it on a business card and gave it to her with the tip for the haircut. Apparently, my writing was so messy, she could barely read it.

Angelina chuckled and asked, “Um… what does this even say? Is this a—“ Her eyes widened as she could make out the word, “coffee” on the note. She blushed, looked at me, and asked, “Are you asking me for a cup of coffee?”

“I’m asking if you would like one,” I quickly responded. “Maybe on your next day off, we can go get one?”

She looked around to make sure no one else was listening and quietly responded, “I’m not really into coffee, actually.” I cleared my throat, having felt it fall a little. “I would love a picnic, though” she continued.

I looked back up, and stuttered, “A—A picnic is nice!” She giggled. I think I smiled the whole way home that day.

The picnic took place a few days after I asked her out, and I was incredibly nervous. Angelina texted me the day before the date, and told me to just bring the blanket and some dessert. I never baked anything before, but I remember she once told me that she loves chocolate cake. I wanted to make one from scratch, and my kitchen was a big mess about an hour into the whole process. To this day, I remember the cake tasted a little burnt on the bottom, and her reaction to it on the soft, big picnic blanket.

Angelina and I were just sitting on the blanket, looking at the pond in front of us, taking a break from talking, and enjoying the cool breeze. The sun was setting, the browning grass surrounded the blanket, the orange and yellow leaves were falling into the pond, and the lights of the city were slowly coming to life. I know for a fact that I was a wreck in the beginning, too shy to talk about anything much more than what we normally did, but I think she noticed and did most of the talking. We talked about the dreams we had growing up, the hobbies we relaxed with, and the family members we love the most. The skies were a little cloudy, the pond was a little murky near the edge of the grass, but the flocks of swimming geese were enchanting. However, my main attraction was Angelina soaking in the peace and quiet. I wanted to do something in this beautiful moment, so I softly reached for her hand, attempting to hold it.

Before I could touch her, her eyes opened and she turned to me, “The cake,” she shouted “You said you baked a cake, and I totally forgot! Come on, bring it out.” I was startled and chuckled nervously, bringing out two slices of chocolate cake. “Awww, you remembered my favorite! You said you made it yourself?” she asked adoringly

“It’s my first attempt at baking a cake, actually” I looked down at my styrofoam box, revealing the slice of chocolate cake. “The rest of the cake kind of looked crumbly somehow. I didn’t know cakes could look ugly, until I baked one.” Angelina laughed so hard, she snorted, making herself laugh even more. Her face was as red as roses. “Oh my god, I’m—“ her own words interrupted with another snort “I’m so sorry! Ugh!”

I laughed with her and reassuringly put my hand on hers, “Trust me, you’re completely fine. I just never heard you make that noise before. There’s a lot of firsts for me today.”

As Angelina was calming down, she began to eat the cake while looking at me with a smile on her face. I could taste the burnt bottom on my own slice, but I was hoping that she wouldn’t really notice. “A little well-done”, she says, “but overall, delicious. Thank you, Grant.” As soon as Angelina said my name, I was so happy that I compulsively went for a kiss, to both of our surprise. That first kiss we had is one of my favorite memories.

We just moved to Boston six months ago. I found a job as a radio personality right after I finished college, and she moved with me. Angelina is a real estate agent now, and she has an unbelievable ability to sell a home anywhere. I know I could not be where I am now, if it wasn’t for her. She has my undying support and love, and I’m so happy and lucky to have her in my life.

Angelina just sold her priciest house to date, and her twenty-fifth house overall. To celebrate, we’re going out to eat at some fancy restaurant we’ve never been to, and I plan to make the night unforgettable; I heard this place has the best chocolate cake.

Not too long ago, I was asking myself the same question that pushed me to her, but it was a little different this time. No matter what, in two years I’ll be thirty-two, but do I want to be thirty-two and dating her or thirty-two and married to her? I planned for a shining surprise to be planted in her slice of chocolate cake tonight, and I hope it’s her favorite slice of cake ever. I hope she says yes because I want to make her the happiest woman I can possibly make her since she makes me the happiest man in the world.