"Oh yeah," I said. "From who?"
She never contacts him. Ever. One day she told him she didn't want him anymore and she disappeared into a black hole. A party princess having her midlife crisis a few years early.
"What'd she want? A divorce?" A little on the sarcastic side.
"Yeah," Dave said. "Her boyfriend proposed."
Anger welled up in me in a rush.
It was so bitter it surprised even me.
"EVERYONE gets a proposal except me," I screamed. "EVERYONE!"
Dave did an abrupt disappearance of his own, shutting the bathroom door in my face.
"I'm sorry," I said to the door.
I went to bed, curled up with a pillow and started a self-pity party. The thoughts that ran through my head were neither positive nor constructive.
I feel like I talked Doug into marrying me.
He told me I was his second choice, that if his first girlfriend ever came back that he would leave me, even if we were married and had six kids, he would go back to her.
Nineteen years later, he left me. Not for her. For someone else.
I was his second choice in the beginning.
And, in the end, second wasn't good enough.
I've been with Dave for more than four years.
He has never popped the question.
He won't even talk about it.
I know he has issues with being hurt the first time around. But I don't think that's the problem. I don't think I'm good enough.
If I was good enough, he would have asked already.
I've been working on a wedding guide at work for the last week or so. Every day I lay out happy stories about weddings. Every day I adjust photos of beautiful, smiling brides. I read their proposal stories, I see their happiness and I wonder why I'm not good enough.