In October, we each bought a handmade notebook at a shop in the Chiang Mai Artist Village. I really liked it, and when I got back, I said I would write down some of the most important things in my life in it. Looking back many years later will surely be interesting.
Little did I expect that the first page would contain this proposal vow.
Recently, I had a long-awaited few weeks of solitude in Chiang Mai, during which I thought a lot, so much so that when I returned, you were surprised that I, who had been contemplating "Adulting" not long ago, suddenly seemed to have become an adult. During that time, I also had the idea of proposing and even looked at rings at the Chiang Mai market (as a replacement ring, planning to choose one I like later).
Originally, I thought about making our promises on the Ferris wheel at the Bangkok night market, romantic in the heights, capturing our love at the highest point in the sky. It sounded nice, but it didn't seem suitable for me, or rather, it didn't align with my imagination of our love. I didn't want the dilution of love or the fading of romance to become a given at this moment, after we step into the next phase together.
In fact, I have always had a personal desire or obsession regarding proposals or weddings. If there is to be such a ceremony, I don't want it to be merely formal; I hope it is a unique romance that belongs to us. However, I increasingly feel that I cannot perfectly accomplish it, to the point that I began to fear it (even as I write this vow, it is December 2, 2024, 23:00, less than 24 hours before the proposal).
While preparing for the proposal, I also began to rethink what our love is.
The essence of love is to be seen.
Love is essentially being seen.
We have completely different childhoods and growth trajectories, our personalities are entirely different, and in the past two or three decades, we have only had a few small intersections. But it is precisely you and I, in the gaps of our respective lives, who have seen and embraced each other.
In the first week after we got together, I once said in "Weekly Review #43 - In the Mood for Love":
Everyone is an independent individual. I find it hard to become and do not wish to make another person my star/spiritual support, but perhaps we can gaze at the same starry sky together, quietly holding each other's hands when the bustling crowd and the spreading streetlights dazzle our eyes.
We have known each other for just over four years and have spent only five hundred twenty-three days together—not long, not short—but I feel I have found someone who can gaze at the same starry sky with me; I have found you.
Just so happens to be you, and thankfully it is you.
Back to the proposal, I did a lot of homework, watched many touching and passionate scenes, and ultimately decided to keep a little surprise during this photoshoot that records our life in Hangzhou, hiding a small thought. We simply stayed quietly together, looking into each other's eyes, as I stumbled through these words.
Today is December 3, an ordinary Tuesday, but just like the movie "Groundhog Day," which we both love, it is we who define what kind of day this is, and we also give this day a unique meaning. Likewise, we will spend countless ordinary, romantic, and happy days together in the future.
Finally, I would like to borrow a line from the beloved poet Rumi as my vow:
(From now on), every question I ask is about you, every step I take points to you, everywhere is you, wherever the voice reaches, wherever the gaze lands.
Will you marry me?