Things escalated significantly, and within a few minutes he was going ~90 MPH and crying, saying things like “Well if we can’t be together then I don’t want to live anymore.”
I admire how much you love your son. I can see how much you care for him. I want you to know that I think he’s very lucky to have you.
Stop worrying if he likes you. Worry if you like him. You are equal players in this relationship.
People are going to continue to ask you about your love life and they’re not going to stop. There’s not really a “getting over it” so much as a “getting used to it.” Most of the time, they mean no harm.
I would want all of my family there, and a complete surprise. I want him to get down on one knee and use my full name. But for me the surprise part is the most important.
You may be young and in love, and that is a beautiful thing. I mean it. Treasure your love. Be good to each other. But know that love is not enough.
For the sake of saving future fiancées/fiancés from similar shock, disappointment, and annoyance, I will share my lessons learned.
At twenty-six, after eight years of sleeping with men, pursuing casual affairs with some sixty forgotten names and faces, I feel it is time to settle down – with a woman.
Have a glass of wine. A large glass of wine – to help dull the all of the Shock and Awe.
Somewhere—between all the sex I haven’t had, the patience I wish I had, and the excitement they think I have—I got sick of being engaged.