A year ago today, Brian proposed to me in our favorite restaurant in New York City, Prune, and I, of course, said yes. Brian knew I'd say yes, and I knew he was going to ask (it was the only way to explain our trip to New York that week), but it didn't make it any less magical. And it didn't make either one of us any less nervous; I remember so clearly the subway ride to the restaurant, where I knew he'd propose, and the shaky anticipation that trembled almost visibly between us. The moment we were seated (at our table), Brian couldn't hold it in for a second longer. He grabbed my hand, got down on one knee, and blurted out that he loved me, would always love me, wanted to spend the rest of his life loving me, and would I marry him. We both laughed and cried and dreamed out loud about everything we would do together in the coming years. The staff at Prune hurried out with complementary flutes of champagne and marinated veal heart ("Heart for a proposal makes sense," said one of our favorite waiters), and the whole restaurant seemed to celebrate with us. It was one of the most fun, most exciting nights of my life, next to our wedding and everyday Brian and I spend together.
To read the original post, check out the post we wrote last June here.