We kissed on a step at the doctor’s office. That was our first date. He had a big bandage on his ear, and I wore a pair of jeans.
He proposed me on our fourth date at the restaurant looking out the lake in the park. Cherry blossoms swayed and floated in the wind, and I said yes.
He had gone to get the ring on his own, in the country where he did not understand the culture or speak the language. I didn’t know until I had to get the ring fixed. They exclaimed, “It was for you!?” He, a gaijin, had caused a bit of commotion. “Diamond! I need a diamond ring!”
I didn’t even know what love was, but our love certainly grew and, in the end, it did blossom just like those cherry blossoms that flirted with the wind and beamed happiness so many decades ago.