On July 16, 2004, I met the man of my dreams and my best friend Ralph. That night I was out with my friend and some of her friends in Boston, Massachusetts. We were in Faneuil Hall where she was having a Girls’ Night at one bar with her friends and her boyfriend, a Guys’ Night at another. Around 1 a.m. my friend told me she was going to the cab line to meet up with her boyfriend and then go home. I told her I’d walk with her and then catch a cab to go home myself.
The warm, gentle summer wind was blowing as we walked, and the moon was bright that night. As we were walking through Faneuil Hall, my friend asked me if I had met anyone at the bar. I replied, “I asked some guy to dance but he turned me down. He said he had a girlfriend.”
“He must have been gay.”
I stopped, turned and said, “Excuse me?”
There were four men and one of them repeated, smiling, “He must have been gay. To turn you down, he must have been gay.”
I was surprised by the bold nature of this comment but was also quite flattered that this gentleman had spotted me from afar and paid me such a compliment. I must admit, I did feel beautiful that evening, despite feeling a little deflated after a handsome stranger turned down my request to dance. Hopeful, I told my friend I wanted to stay and talk to this attractive man for a little while. A “little while” turned into hours. My friend and his friends had left, and Ralph and I talked through the moonlit night. We laughed, shared stories, and even a kiss in the middle of Faneuil Hall.
Ralph was living in New Jersey and I was living in Boston at the time. He was only visiting his friend for that weekend. We exchanged numbers and were long distance for three years. Just weeks before I was planning on moving to New Jersey to finally end our long-distance days, Ralph surprised me with a visit to Boston.
On the evening of June 8, 2007, I got out of a cab in Faneuil Hall and began walking to a spot, where I was to meet my brother, who was supposedly going to be in Boston for the weekend for a work-related meeting. I did not know that he and my brother had secretly arranged the proposal. As I started walking to my destination, I noticed Ralph amid a crowd of strangers in Faneuil Hall. He had located himself in the exact spot where we met three years earlier. He dropped down on one knee with a dozen roses in one hand and an engagement ring in the other. The rest is history.