I was proposed to for the first time when I was eight, my engagement ring out of the candy dispenser. His mother had graciously lent him a velvet box to dress up the presentation. Hair combed he arrive at my front door. And as fate would have it, I wasn’t home.

For me
You live
In the Tall tale
Of an 8yr old’s Proposal
oft regaled 

For me
You live
in the barn amidst
Hay fort fears
Born sparks alit

I know this tale intimately in its retelling, an urban legend of my youth, one the love stories that shaped my desires. I admit I wondered what it would be to marry my childhood friend-to have 40 plus years with one man, my model of marriage. Having two divorces under my belt, I clearly have not lived up to its expectations. (According to my bosses the first one is a…