WG and I went to Denver this past weekend.
We frolicked in the snow, visited the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, ate wonderful food at two fabulous Denver restaurants (Duo and Vesta). After much driving around, we finally happened upon the famous Tattered Cover.
I can't find quite the words to describe the perfection of this weekend.
We were completely in sync the entire weekend. While, he drove around in our tiny little rental car on Denver's snowy, messy streets, I navigated using WG's brand-spanking new tom-tom GPS. I made decisions only when necessary and let WG plan by the seat of his pants, using yelp via his iPhone to find the best places to eat, drink and relax. I haven't been this happy and relaxed in, well, a very long time.
So, it was the perfect weekend for WG to surprise me with a fancy hotel on our third night in Denver.
It was the perfect weekend for him to guide me up to a room with a long foyer and a living room strewn with rose petals.
It was the perfect weekend for him to have secretly obtained two orders of Denver's best tiramisu and have it already waiting for us in the hotel room.
It was the perfect weekend for us to look out the window at a serene night scene.
It was the perfect weekend to look at the gently falling snow and listen to the silence and feel like the only two people in the world.
It was the perfect weekend for him to take me in his arms, look me in the eyes and tell me how much he loves me.
It was the perfect weekend for him to very slowly get down on one knee and ask me to marry him.
It was the perfect weekend for me to say "Yes!"
It was the perfect weekend.