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You have not been able to stop smiling since you saw the news. You are thrilled, absolutely delighted, to see him so happy. The pictures of the two of them in New York show them smiling; she, quietly proud, and he looking like he can’t believe how lucky he is, happiness bubbling up from him like water in a hot spring.
How did he ask her?
Did he plan it down to the exact detail? Did he go down on one knee after a dinner out and take the box out of his pocket? Did he ask her at home, during a quiet dinner? Did he slip the ring into her drink? Did he ask her first, and then take her ring shopping later?
Did she know it was coming? Had they discussed it beforehand? Did she overhear him ask her mother’s permission? Did they speak of “Someday” and mean “Soon”? Was the proposal only a formality, confirming what they already knew?
Did he prepare a well-crafted speech? Did he stammer and delay and start making an elegant mess of it and end up being put out of his misery when she said yes? Had he tried to ask her before? Did he just go ahead and ask her? Did he just take out the ring box, put it on the table, and ask, “Well?”
Maybe he asked her on a whim. Perhaps she was sick or sad, and he realized he wanted to be with her no matter what. Maybe it was after they made love, and he realized he didn’t need a meticulously planned proposal. He might have asked in the shower, or while they prepared dinner. He might have even asked over the phone. It could have been very simple and domestic. It could have been elaborate and splendid. The only thing you know is that it was romantic, and it’s clear that you won’t find out anything else.
They love each other. You can’t deny that. They’re shy and private about it, but it’s clear from pictures that they’re besotted. He looks like he’s found a treasure, and she looks like someone who knows that she’s hit the jackpot, but isn’t going to flaunt it.
You go on Tumblr and see images of police brutality, terrorist executions, animal and child abuse, government corruption, and bigotry, and it leaves you with a heavy heart and a nauseous stomach, and then you see the two of them on the red carpet, and hear about wedding plans from the Collective (with tongues firmly in their cheeks), and you smile. You laugh at the pictures of otters in white gowns and top hats, you read the endless jokes begging the bride-to-be never to let her future husband dress himself (ah, the chambray shirt! The blue shoes!), and you already see people stockpiling gifs of rocking cradles and fluffy teddy bears (just in case).
Maybe there will be a virtual wedding, where everyone can congregate on Tumblr and have their own celebration, like they did when Will and Kate got married. The dress code can be as formal or as informal as you like (on the internet, a sweat-suit can turn into a ball gown just like in Cinderella), and everyone gets together to dance. You will laugh, you will weep, and you won’t be able to stop smiling, even as tears fall thick and fast. Every happy, danceable song will be up on your playlist, and finally, everyone can raise their glasses of champagne or ginger ale (how many of us in the Collective are underage?) and shout into the regions of cyberspace: “Congratulations, Benedict and Sophie!”