35. The Proposal

The Obsessive Diary · Oct 18, 2025 · 2m

We used to hang out at the Bonnington Café in Vauxhall, but he didn’t propose to me there. He chose a farm trailer parked by the metal barn, straw bales against my back. He’d written a song and I didn’t see it coming. He was always singing something, devoted to his band, they wanted to make it big. My six-foot-seven Angel man; when we’d moved into the farm, I’d gone out to an architectural salvage to find a bath long enough. The piano player had painted clouds in a blue sky on the ceiling of our bathroom, the carpenter had built a plinth, a little spiral of steps, a German couple, obsessed…