Me and my fiancée had pretty slim chances to meet each other. Both of us were born and raised in Russia. I?m from central Siberia and she is from Ukraine. The circumstances were complicated by 8 time zones and the fact that she immigrated to US 14 years ago and my student adventures brought me here only in 2001. Well we meet at last across the ocean despite all the odds against us.
She is special enough for me to spend almost a year to plan my proposal. We share a language and a culture and that’s something we want to pass down the generations. I began hunting for a Russian diamond, learning at the same time from different sources that Russian school of grinding is considered one of the best in the world. Sounds good, but not easy to find a modest stone without working for the Russian mob. About 8 months before the day I order a large 7-piece Russian nesting doll, the one that keeps coming apart until you get to the smallest piece and say "what?," I did not know how I’m going to use it yet at the time but knew it would have to be clever. I know what all of you are thinking, "the ring inside the smallest piece." Nope.
As time, and harassment about dates and plans went on, I realized that if I propose in a public place it would probably be a winner on "NO-GO" proposal story show. I also wanted her to have no clue and thought that us looking for a place to live would help to side-track her. I decided to contact a friend who is a real estate agent, requesting to see if there is an empty house on the market I could use for a few hours. After being informed that it’s practically illegal and one could loose their license for assisting me I knew exactly that’s the way to do a very special proposal. I began planning accordingly. The night of, my beloved had a hair appointment with a friend of hers, which began at 8 pm. Originally, the real estate agent was supposed to let us inside this house under the pretence of possible buyer relationship. As time came closer to 10 pm and my beloved’s hair underwent only the 8th of 14 stages of typical female hair appointment I began to panic. A real estate agent suggested something I’d never ask for, a combination to the key holder from the house, an immediate loss-of-a-job option in real estate manuals. Then comes midnight, a bit later than originally plan we pull over by the prospect residence of ours. Perhaps it was the die in her heir that went into her bloodstream that prevented any suspicion on my beloved’s side of why are we looking at the house at midnight without an agent. Nevertheless, she receives a little box and is instructed not to come into the house until I turn on all the lights. I disappear for something you?ll find out in the end of this story. She opens the box and finds the smallest piece of that 7-piece doll. Estranged she walks in. Observes the next doll sitting in front of her in the hall way and a note next to it stating: "put us all together."
She goes on to do as instructed, by going to different rooms and finding other dolls and opening them to put the smaller one inside. Each subsequent doll had notes inside stating different ideas I had for remodeling this house and directions to the next doll. By the time she gets to the master bedroom on the second floor and sees the biggest and the last doll where all the rest go into, she begins to suspect that perhaps I have already purchased this house and this is my way of informing her. With mixed feelings she picks up the last doll expecting the rattle of keys inside of it. Instead she finds a sleeping mask, the one they give you on the airplane, and a not stating: "please approach the next room, put the mask on and knock." Completely confused by now, just like you are, she does as it says. She then is instructed to come in, sit down and take off her mask. She then finds me, in the dark room, among countless candles, in a white suit, on one knee, and in my hands is a black guitar. I’ve written a song to her, which I semi-successfully sang to her. At the end I pulled out the ring and asked her to be my wife. In that atmosphere, soaked with romance, she replied: "Honey, did you buy this ugly house?" "No," I said, "but by the way we have to get out of here fast, but will you merry me?" She said: "of course", and began crying. I pulled out a bouque of longs stem red roses and we were out of there, thank God!
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