I miss the quiet laugh you made when I pretended to faint.

I miss the way your thumb brushed mine when you reached for the ring.

I miss how your voice cracked on the last word and then steadied.

I miss how you fumbled the words and then chose the one that mattered.

I miss the awkward way you cleared your throat before you spoke that night.

I miss the small, embarrassed grin you had when you realized you were crying.

I miss the way you wiped cake from my chin without asking.

[Name], will you marry me? I want us to be that ordinary team.

Marry me so I can keep falling asleep to your podcast voice.

[Name], marry me — I want to be the one who remembers your keys.

Say yes and we'll keep stealing fries from each other's plates forever.

I want to marry you because your laugh makes the bus ride better.

[Name], marry me — I want to share a toothbrush holder with you.

I want to marry you; I am here, hands shaky, asking for that.

[Name], I want to marry you. I'm tired of pretending I'll do it later.

Say yes and I'll learn to fold your shirts the way you like.

[Name], will you marry me? I need someone to split the umbrella with.

I want to marry you for the quiet nights and the loud bad jokes.

Marry me so I have someone to read bad novels aloud to.

[Name], I am ready to be your emergency contact — will you marry me?

Will you marry me and let me be the one who burns the toast?

Marry me — I want to argue about paint colours with you for decades.

Will you marry me so we can stop deciding vacation plans separately?

I want to marry you, right now, even with your terrible parking.

Will you marry me and let our life have the same small, honest rhythm?

I want to keep taking your coat and saying 'stay' — will you marry me?

[Name], marry me so I can keep apologizing for burnt toast and mean it.

I want to spend ordinary evenings with you — will you marry me?

[Name], say you'll marry me and accept my bad puns at breakfast.

Marry me and let me hold the flashlight when we change lightbulbs.

I want the small, true life with you — will you marry me?

Marry me so I have an excuse to see your face every morning.

[Name], will you marry me — I promise to water your plants on forgetful weeks.

I love the way you fold your laundry; marry me and keep doing it.

[Name], say you'll take my name and my terrible taste in late-night snacks.

Marry me, [Name], and let's figure out how to fold fitted sheets together.

[Name], will you marry me and keep the cactus we bought alive?

[Name], I'm serious: will you let me make us breakfast every Sunday?

Say you'll be the person I text first about lost keys and late trains.

Marry me — and keep your hand in mine when the kettle whistles.