“It has been 1,957 days since you walked down those stairs and into my heart.”
Those words marked the beginning of a proposal speech that bridged years of survival, healing, and profound love.
They weren’t stairs meant for romance. For years, running down them wasn’t about fitness or fun—it was an escape from the shadows of an abusive home. But one day, sitting at the bottom of those very steps, everything shifted.
There you sat in a leather jacket, holding out two Slurpees spiked with vodka. In a world that felt heavy and uncertain, that simple, rebellious gesture offered a lifeline. Just one year later, the journey came full circle: a blindfold, a trip back to those exact stairs, and a celebration of 365 days of us.
Life settled into a rhythm defined by the smallest, most grounding moments.
Every single morning began the same way: a simple text notification flashing across the screen. “Hey.”
It wasn’t just a greeting; it was an anchor. Morning after morning, that little word was the quiet promise that someone was there, waiting, and steady.
Four years after those first Slurpees, the story looped back to where it all started.
You had meticulously scouted the grounds for the perfect slant of afternoon sunlight, hired a private photographer, and orchestrated every detail. With your heart in your eyes and nerves that were entirely honest, sweet, and visible, you looked down at me and said:
“The only thing I would change about you is your last name.”
Down on one knee, right at the bottom of the same stairs and in front of the very bench where two separate worlds collided and refused to ever drift apart again, you asked the question.
A million times yes, over and over, forever and always.
Rod Maldaner - Thank you for asking me to be your wife!!
I AM GOING TO BE MRS. MALDANER!! 😭🥹❤️💍
