My husband, Clark, proposed to me in my dorm room within the first month of college. We were watching Aladdin. Not kidding. We were just hanging out, talking about things to come.

After this and that, Clark told me to close my eyes. He paused the movie right as Aladdin is asking Jasmine, “Do you trust me?” You know, the balcony scene?

Then I heard, “Come What May” from Moulin Rouge playing (our song), and he told me to open my eyes. There he was, kneeling in front of me, ring right there where I could see it.

I wasn’t exactly shocked. We had already been talking about getting engaged. However, our plan was to wait a year or so before doing it. After all, we were just into college, we were only eighteen, and we had only been together for five months.

It didn’t matter. Clark told me how he had this elaborate proposal planned. Going to New York City for our fall break, taking me to see Wicked, taking me out to dinner, a horse and carriage ride through Central Park—you know, a typical-picture-perfect-movie-proposal.

But he jumped the gun. He couldn’t wait. The ring was burning a hole in his pocket.

The thing is, I prefer our proposal story, because it’s our proposal story. Every engagement is extra special because it’s unique. Even if you get the typical-picture-perfect-movie-proposal, it’s yours. There is something different about it: the two of you and your whole story, not just your proposal.

Emily