I’ve been carrying this little velvet box in my pocket for weeks. It’s warm against my thigh, a tiny weight full of promise. Every time I think, this is the moment, my chest races, my fingers twitch, my heart threatening to leap out of my ribcage. And every time… something ridiculous happens, and I have to wait.

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Attempt One – Coffee Chaos

We were at our favorite café, the smell of espresso thick in the air. I felt it: butterflies, adrenaline, certainty. My hand brushed the box in my pocket.

Then a kid, who had clearly had too much sugar, tripped and sent their hot chocolate flying—right onto my leg. She gasped, jumped to help, apologizing to me, the kid, the barista, and possibly the entire street. I was soaked, sticky, laughing like an idiot, and she laughed too, brushing chocolate off my arm with those delicate fingers that always made my chest tighten. I slid the box back into my pocket, whispering not yet…

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Attempt Two – The Rooftop View

We wandered to a quiet rooftop, city stretching below us. I imagined kneeling, city lights reflecting in her eyes. Fingers itching to hold the box.

Then a sudden gust of wind sent her scarf flying, and I lunged, missing it completely, stumbling into the railing. She grabbed me, laughter spilling like music, and my knees went weak. I laughed too, holding her close, the city blurry around us. Later…

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Attempt Three – Movie Moment

We were at the cinema, and I thought, this romantic scene is my cue. My fingers twitched, the box heavy in my pocket.

Then a phone went off in the row behind us, blaring a ridiculous ringtone. She laughed at my panicked look, and suddenly the cinematic tension vanished. I exhaled, heart still pounding, and slid the box back in. Another time…

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Attempt Four – The Walk in the Park

Golden leaves, soft sunlight. I pictured myself kneeling, her eyes wide, heart hammering. Fingers brushed the box.

A cyclist came speeding around a corner, almost taking me down. She grabbed my arm, laughing uncontrollably, holding me upright. My hands trembled—not just from near-falling, but from wanting her, wanting this moment, wanting her to be mine forever. The box stayed tucked away. Patience…

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Attempt Five – Late-Night Car Ride

We were stuck in traffic, city lights reflecting in her eyes. I fiddled with the box, whispering to myself: This is it.

Then a horn blared, a taxi swerved, and she shrieked, leaning against me for balance. I laughed, heart thundering, and the box stayed hidden, mocking me. Almost…

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Attempt Six – The Real Moment

At home, on the couch, her head on my shoulder. I was explaining why my attempt at her favorite childhood recipe had failed spectacularly. She laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. My chest squeezed.

I touched the box, heart pounding. I looked at her: the way the soft light fell across her cheek, the way her eyes sparkled even through laughter, the warmth radiating from her. My voice caught.

“I’ve carried this with me for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment… and I realized perfection doesn’t exist. But us? Us is perfect in every messy, ridiculous, hilarious, heart-stopping way. I love you—in every glance, every laugh, every quiet, chaotic moment—and I want to spend the rest of my life discovering all the moments we haven’t lived yet. Will you marry me?”