Me: Hey Heaven, sit with me a minute—look at the sky, how it’s lit.
Heaven: You sound nervous. What’s on your mind? Your hands are doing all the talking tonight.
Me: I keep thinking ‘bout the first time I saw you smile, like sunrise on a tired street,
Heaven: You made coffee out of silence, turned my small talk into a heartbeat.
Me: I wrote lists of reasons, then tore them up—words never held you right.
Heaven: So speak anyway. I like the way your honesty fights the light.
Me: Would you let me try? Not just for now, but for the morning that’s still coming—
Heaven: Try how? You mean like forever? That’s a heavy word for humming.
Me: I mean vows, fumbling steps, sharing blankets and rent, learning to be brave,
Heaven: I mean the ordinary miracles—the dishes, the apologies, the way you save.
Me: I carry a ring in my pocket, heavy with a promise and a fear.
Heaven: My laugh catches—did you always practice how to ask with both hands clear?
Me: I practiced silence, practiced listening, practiced staying even when storms press.
Heaven: You practiced patience. I noticed. You practiced showing up for less.
Me: Heaven will you marry me? Not because I need you to finish me,
Heaven: But because you want team, and music in our mess, and someone to hold when the night is deep?
Me: Yes. Because your name fits on the map of my days, because you make stubborn places soft.
Heaven: Because you love my edges, not just the idea—because you lift when I cough.
Me: I promise to learn the language of your quiet, to be a home for both your laughter and your ache.
Heaven: I promise to say yes loud enough for doubt to hear and gentle enough for trust to wake.
Me: So we’ll sign the mornings into memory, plant a life with small bright seeds?
Heaven: We’ll plant and we’ll fail and plant again—watered by coffee, apologies, good deeds.
Me: Then let me be the one who calls you forever and answers when you call at two.
Heaven: Then let me be the one who tells you truth and softens even when it’s true.
Me: Here—this ring is small, but my asking is not. Will you take my hand, my plan, my plea?
Heaven: I will. I will be your partner, your mirror, your harbor when the ocean’s rough sea.
Me: I promise to keep asking, to keep listening, to keep choosing you every ordinary day.
Heaven: I promise to marry your mornings, to marry your midnight prayers, to walk with you all the way.
Me: Then let’s call our people, light a candle, start a song that never ends.
Heaven: Let’s build a life where our small kindnesses stack up—let’s be lovers and best friends.
HbKeed