Willius

I was in relationships for six years and single for three. I'm done. I'm ready. Where's my ring?

This is something my boyfriend and I joke about all the time. I'm always trying to sneak in comments about our future: when will I meet his parents, who's coming to the wedding, what should we name our third child...

On the way home from an art show last week, we passed by a bridal shop. He had the nerve to point out which dress he thought I'd like. You see, he thinks that if I ever do get proposed to and accept, I'll become an unbridled Bridezilla (sorry, couldn't resist that one), fussing over the smallest details and imperfections. I have no idea what he's talking about.

Bennifer. Brangelina. Tom-kat. Do I really want to become one of THOSE couples? You know, the ones who give up their own identity in favor of a blended, new & improved mutation. Darius and I would become morphed into "Willius" in all the tabloids and upper echelon circles in Los Angeles.

This weekend we're headed off to Sacramento for his friend's wedding. There's a bar-b-cue happening the previous night and guess whose name got added to the invite? *big, mischievous grin* He freaked out a bit when he first saw it, but I'll tell you a secret: I'm gonna catch that bouquet come hell or high water.