Steven and I are as mismatched as they come. He is the whimsical free spirit to my organized tyrant. I lovingly call him my bumbling beau. His occasional "bad luck" is no match for his "carpe diem" attitude. And despite the rain cloud that seems to follow him, he is an amazing soul. On June 4th, after 2 1/2 years together and 2 1/2 weeks away from closing on our first home, he proposed to me during a trip to NYC. We were sitting on the ferry to head back from Liberty Island, I was nuzzled into his shoulder, and my phone went off. I had received a text...from Steven. I looked up at him and asked what it was. He turned bright red and smiled. When the text finished loading I was met with a photo of my beloved dog, Bear, dressed in a t-shirt that says "Will you marry my daddy?" The fact that Bear looked like a sausage stuffed into a casing only made the moment sweeter. When I looked back at him I asked if it was real, and he handed me the most breathtaking ring I'd ever seen. Of course I said yes, and we went on with our day basking in the glow of our engagement. Little did I know, this was not how he planned it! Steven had sent me that text message about two hours earlier when we were sitting in front of the Statue of Liberty. He apparently didn't account for poor cell reception. The text failed, and as it continued to try and send we got back in the line to be herded like cattle onto the ferry. I casually went on with the day, texting my sister and playing on my phone - the entire time Steven is standing behind me, sweating bullets and having a mild panic attack, terrified the text would come through as we were in a sea of sweaty strangers trying to board the ferry. Thankfully the text waited until we were sitting comfortably on the ferry feeling the rocking of the waves. I had no idea what had happened, but when I learned about it all I could say was that it "felt right." It went exactly how it should have, and now I get to marry the love of my life. How lucky :)