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We had biked over the Golden Gate bridge through Sausalito and deep into the Richardson Bay area. My time was running out. It was a hot afternoon with an azure sky and a calm sea. I hadn‘t been this nervous in a long time. I had nearly exhausted all of my options and were desperately evaluating every little nook and cranny as we made our way through the landscape. Maria didn‘t suspect a thing and was complaining about the state of her rental bike and the exact degree of butthurt she would get from riding it all day. The bridge had been too loud. The town had been too crowded. Soon we would be on a ferry back to the city and all my planning would have been for nothing. Right when I thought we had already passed the perfect spot we finally came upon a little grove right by the water. A tiny sloping area protected by bushes and flowers with a little white bench facing the ocean. You could see the skyline of San Francisco in the hazy distance and the Golden Gate bridge looming over the bay to the right. The subtle motion of the waves kissing the rocks and the birds overhead made time move slower. I couldn‘t have planned for a more romantic location. We sat down, had a sip of water and talked about the day. I dived into the SD card pocket of my backpack on the ground and carefully extracted the ring I had secretly transported all the way from Denmark. I slipped it in my pocket and she didn‘t notice a thing. After a few more minutes of just sitting and 10 seconds of heart pounding anxiety, I finally went down on one knee. I was proudly flashing the most expensive piece of jewelry I had ever bought and asked her if she wanted to marry me. She looked at me suspiciously and said: “you‘re joking, right?“.

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