We have a new bed, and it’s all I can think about. Well, almost all I can think about.
We chose it last Saturday, and it was delivered last night. It’s a firm, queen-size mattress with a pillow top, and the whole thing just feels like unimaginable luxury after months of sleeping on Faramir’s old bed. He’d be surprised to hear me say what affection I have for that bed. It’s where I first told him I had a crush on him. It’s where we first lay and held each other, until sand from a day spent at Ocean Beach spilled out of my pockets and all over the sheets. But let’s be brutal, here. Nostalgia aside, the bed was small. The mattress was so beaten down that sheets meant for a full bed were large and baggy. Every time he rolled over, I practically fell out or fell into the middle. The springs rang like church bells–not the hour-chiming kind, but the carillons of the English countryside.
Ohh, the new bed. I have gone into the bedroom today for no other purpose than to run my hand over it. Sleeping in it last night was incredible. I am honestly excited about going to bed; I mean, even more excited than I usually am. But a new bed wasn’t the only thing we bought last Saturday. We went to an estate jewelry store that he likes, which turned out to be about a block away from where my Uncle Mike used to live, and chose an engagement ring.
Yup. We’re gonna get married. (Or, to put it the way I think about it most of the time, “We’re gonna get married!!!!!!!1!!!”) Does that mean I get to be a shield-mistress? Shield-madam?