I had survived “Y2K,” was swept off my feet by the gym teacher, my anxiety started to subside, I turned 21, settled into my college commuter lifestyle and prepared to graduate with my bachelors degree in Communications at the end of the year–and for those of you keeping track, that would be 6 months shy of 4 years!

My relationship with the gym teacher was most certainly at the next level since we were living together by the end of 2001. To ring in the new year, we escaped to Montreal for a long weekend. I was certain this would be the weekend he’d propose.

Montreal was like no other city I had ever visited. Everyone was so polite, the streets were immaculate, the buildings filled with character. It was freeeeezing. We walked hand in hand throughout the city for hours. It would be the perfect place for him to ask for my hand in marriage–maybe shortly after we kissed to ring in the New Year.

The first night we were there, I got insanely drunk at the bar. Somehow, our conversation went towards marriage. The gym teacher totally blew off the topic every time I brought it up. Finally, when my drunken state of mind could no longer handle the dissing, I started crying my eyes out–no, bawling to be exact–telling him how I was certain he was going to propose to me that weekend and how I was wrong and that he’ll never ask me to marry him. He shook his head, and said that, no, in fact, he was not planning to ask me to marry him that weekend but that he did love me very much.

Before you start having sympathy pains for me, just know this….he already bought the ring and had a plan to propose less than one month from that exact date that my drunk a$ was whining in the bar. Of course I didn’t know this, and luckily I didn’t scare him away that night.

Despite that great let-down, we had a fantastic weekend in Montreal and rung in the new year in an Irish Pub watching Dick Clark’s New Years Rockin’ Eve. I would have had it no other way to ring in the next remarkable year of my life.

**I am choosing not to touch upon 9-11, though I realize it was a significant part of 2001. Like hundreds of thousands of people, I can tell you my every move, and every detail about that day. But I am going to choose to keep that private.

Why am I writing about 2001? Read HERE.

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