Will You Marry Me Again?

Shopping in my closet

Shopping in my closet.                       Clothes fit now!

Every morning I get out of bed, take off my clothes and weigh myself.  (I’m a firm believer that pajamas easily add 17 pounds to the scale.)  On New Year’s I was 150 lbs. The first day I started training with Daniel I was 146 lbs.  Now, not even a month later, I’m 134 lbs. and I just can’t believe it.

The scale used to be hidden and reviled and now it has become a curiosity for me.  Each morning I’m excited to see the numbers go down.  I fit into clothes I haven’t seen in years and other areas of my life are changing in novel ways.

Shopping in my closet leads me to memories long past.   Today I discovered by white Bebe skirt and black lace tank top.  I bought them for our trip to Rome seven years and two kids ago and blushed at the memory of the trip.

“There’s your fountain,” I waved offhandedly, the sting of the past still fresh in my mind.

“Come on, we have to get closer,” he says with surprising urgency.

 He takes my hand and pulls me through the crowd.  The heat and humidity of the July afternoon feel like a heavy blanket suffocating me.  A vendor weaves through with red roses for sale and I feel the ghost of hurt again.  I don’t want to be here.

 “You have to take a coin and throw it into the fountain so we can come back.”

“We’ve done this before, Henri.”

“Lisa, please.”

 Some German university students are singing loudly in drunken euphoria, wrapped in their country’s flag like a Super Man cape.  Their team made the World Cup playoffs.  Tourists snap pictures around us.

 “Sit down.  Now close your eyes and throw the coin,” he said as though this was the first time we were here.  I exhaled in annoyance. 


 The fountain’s edge was cool from the shade of the buildings.  Water from the majestic sculptures splashed on the back of my neck and it felt cool on my skin.  Closing my eyes I tossed the coin into the Fountain d’ Treve.  Opening my eyes I discovered  Henri down on his knee holding a wooden box, my wedding ring resting in the satin center, only with a much bigger diamond in it.

 “Will you marry me again?  This is the proposal you should have had the first time.”

Will you marry me again?

Will you marry me again?




Sheslosingit.net (c) 2012 Lisa Traugott.  All rights reserved.  No portion of this blog, including any text, photographs, and artwork, may be reproduced or copied without written permission.

2 responses to “Will You Marry Me Again?

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