Grapes Upside Down

46. Tangerines

~Madisen~

Somehow, I manage to shut off my brain and fall into an immediate, heavy sleep that night, evading the momentous decision looming over me.

Waking up the following morning is like emerging from a coma; my body is numb, and it takes several seconds for the memories of last night to resurface.

When I stand from the bed, I'm utterly unable to interpret my own emotions. Lightheadedness overtakes me as I stare at the delicate golden circle laying in the middle of my empty desk.

Regaining blood circulation, my mind morphs into a beehive of chaos. A tangled mass of thoughts like buzzing insects swarm in circles, stinging one another, dying, coming back to life with a vengeance.

Each time I blink, millisecond flashes of Ignacio's myriad facial expressions flip in shudder speed. Infatuation, rage, awe, melancholy, joviality, lust, disgust, love... hope.

Which faces make up the real Ignacio? Which moments between us represent the true nature of our relationship?

Accepting a marriage proposal shouldn't be this fraught with doubt, should it?

The mere thought of declining sends me reeling into the bathroom to throw up.

As I flush the toilet, a calm realization washes over me. Our situation is unique. We come from different countries and wildly different childhoods. Our relationship has been a whirlwind, roller-coaster journey. The clashes of culture and philosophy have been fierce, but they have forced us into deep conversations which have allowed our perspectives to bend and meld.

Locking myself back in the bedroom, I lift the ring from the desk and slip it on.

The look of raw hope on Ignacio's face when we parted ways last night haunts me. I'm the diamond he can't afford, a shimmery promise for a happy future after a lifetime of being crushed by everyone he's loved.

People aren't perfect. Love isn't supposed to be easy. The trials we have already faced together are a testament to the intensity of our bond. Ideally, we would date longer before committing to an engagement or trans-continental move, but our circumstances don't afford us many options.

That doesn't mean accepting his proposal is wrong. It just means it's unexpected--as unexpected as falling into a cross-cultural relationship on a study-abroad program 8000 miles from my home country. It's possibly no more risky than any other proposal decision. No one knows how relationships will unfold, if they will last or shrivel, bloom or blow up. All I can do is try.

My stomach balloons with excitement as I spin the narrow gold band around my ring finger.

A sudden, hot rush of blood plunges into my head when there's a firm knock on the door.

Noah welcomes himself into my room when I turn the knob. On impulse, I hide my ringed finger behind my back.

"Did you just get home?" I ask him in Spanish.

"Uh, yeah, a bit ago," he replies, avoiding eye contact. "Do you mind sharing your history notes? I'm feeling underprepared for tomorrow's quiz."

"Oh, yeah. No problem." I continue shielding my left hand from view as I fumble inside my backpack, pulling out a notebook with unsteady hands.

"Are you okay?" Noah steps the tiniest bit closer, while I re-position my hand with supreme awkwardness, folding it against my waist so the tiny circle of metal remains out of sight.

"I'm fine." The dishonest answer squeaks out high and breathy. "Why?"

"You're pale and shaky," Noah states, surveying me with his gentle green eyes, voice a soft rumble. "And... I thought I heard you throwing up?"