Now playing - One (TVXQ)

I know it isn't like any other day when he texted me a good morning early in the morning when I woke up. It was automatic; it felt like a message sent just right after I wake up.

As I was eating my breakfast, corn flakes with milk- almost putting up a spoon to my mouth for a bite, I felt my phone vibrate and I knew I just had to wait a while to take that one last bite from my bowl of cereal.

He texted me, saying, "I'll meet you for dinner at 6. I'll pick you up." and that alone put a smile to my already blissful face.

From 12 to 3 in the afternoon, I did my daily routine of cleaning around the house like I used to ever since I moved out of my parents house and since I moved out from the apartment of my 8 sisters all from different mothers. I washed the dishes; vacuum-cleaned the house, washed the laundry, and from time-to-time would wipe my sweat. I didn't forget to eat lunch, but I didn't eat much expecting a feast he's going to spoon-feed me later on at dinner. I was never really one for eating so much actually. It's just that he makes it a habit to make me less thin than I am now. He insists that it's an essential and that it would make him sad every time he puts TLC in what he cooks for me.

By 5 in the evening, I started preparing. I put on light make-up and light everything and put my hair up in a common bun. I put on a flowy floral dress and laced wedges up my legs. It was a simple get-up and I know he didn't need me to look so extravagant.

He picked me up at exactly 6 in the evening, looking like the perfect stunning prince charming.

Throughout the ride, he played classics he had burned in a disc. He likes those for some reason, and I appreciate just every little thing he does. From the passenger seat, I could feel him glancing at me every so often with a smile, and I look out the window not to be so obvious than I am already.

He escorted me out the car the minute we arrived at a fine-dining restaurant and seated me at a table before he could.

We had a seven-course meal and had our fill of protein and every other nutrient there are. We drank wine while listening to the orchestra group at the side, and he sang to me just like any other day. Not literally, but with his smiles and laughs and the simple conversation we had at least.

And it felt like new nature to me with him entertaining me to every bit today. I realized I had so much underestimated his organizing capability the minute it struck me that it was our 3.5 years of being together already. He remembered, and I figured that today consisted of so much bliss because of that very reason.

It heightened even more when he offered me a bouquet of flowers with 21 roses; 20 of which red, and the one and only at the center white. He offered it calmly and as sincerely as he could, an expression with no expectation waiting to happen.

But I saw something in the bouquet of roses that really caught my attention and I looked at him with a really wide grin spread across my face. He immediately put on a very satisfied and cocky smile that made me want to hit his face, but embrace him all the same. I did stand up from my seat, took slow but sure steps toward him and pulled him up for a hug. He acted with no effort at all, and it made me a little mad that he's not even standing up beforehand, but the love he showered me at that time could never equate to any kind of anger I could possibly feel toward him at that very moment. I hugged him as tight as I could, and cried on his shoulders tears of happiness as he smoothed my bunned hair and put his other hand around my waist.

"So?" he asked.

I whispered in muffled sobs as I retrieved my tearful face from his shoulder, "You jerk. All of my emotional hormones are acting up." and he wiped the tears that formed on my cheeks down to my jaw line.

For in the bouquet full of red roses with a white rose placed at the center, there was an odd one out resemblance. He seemed to have remembered that I find red roses overrated, so he took it an initiative liberally to place a ring in the white rose. That was what I found utterly interesting that caught my entire attention.

"Hey, that's 21 roses!" he spat. "That's 42 months of us being together divided by 2."

"Ya~ enough with the calculations already!" I exclaimed, placing my head on top of his shoulders once again.

"But I thought you were going to make a big deal out of the fact that I didn't make it 42 roses to be exact," he said, and I could tell he was nervous. He bickers with me whenever he is and tries as hard to start an argument.

But I just shook my head and started with my mental list of questions, "Make me happy?"

"Check."

"Feed me?"

"Mhmm."

"Love me?"

"Always."

"Am I so beautiful?"

"Yes," he replied with a laugh.

"Am I too noisy?"

"Yes," he agreed. "So shut up. It's my turn." and I just laughed because I know I didn't need to take that seriously.

Slowly, he withdrew himself from my embrace and took the bouquet of roses I left lying on the table. He almost shoved it in front of his face as he gets the ring, and disregards the bouquet the minute he got a hold of it already.

"Make me happy?" he asked this time, and I nodded.

"Eat what I cook?" and I nodded, with a smile.

"Love me?"

"Always," I replied, copying what he said earlier yet meaning it all the same as he did.

"Am I so handsome?"

I laughed, rolled my eyes for a while before saying, "Perfect."

Now the final question...

"Marry me?"

"Of course," I answered casually, pulling my hand out toward him as he did his thing and placed the ring on my finger.

And in the bouquet of 20 red roses and 1 white rose, I found my happiness- my shining diamond ring; I found one man out of a bunch possible for me to fish out of the sea; I found a unique, intricate and one-of-a-kind love; I found him- my forever, my one white rose out of a bunch of overrated red ones.

November 18, 2011
9:34 PM