I’m in that magical moment. Any day now, maybe when I’m least expecting it, or maybe when it’s completely clear because he’s been leading up to it all day, my boyfriend will pop the question, and I’ll say yes, and we’ll be engaged.

But, like, if it’s not today, or maybe tomorrow at the latest, I’m probably going to have to commit a murder or something.

It’s been such a wonderful year. We’ve had fleeting conversations about it, about timing, about how we might even be married by this time next year. But, you know, if we’re going to be married at this time next year, we’re going to have to be engaged pretty soon here. Like, now-ish. Get what I’m saying? Or I might get the urge to, like, kick a bunny.

I am so ready to take on the title of fiancée. I am also very, very ready to stop having heart attacks every time he kneels down to tie his shoe or pick something up off the ground. I’m worried I’m just going to shout “YES!” next time he does before I realize he’s actually just grabbing a particularly shiny rock, then I’ll be stuck trying to come up with some other reason I might have yelled.

The false positives are doing my anxiety no favors, by the way. Every time he takes me on a surprise date or buys me flowers, I just have to stand there and act like he’s just doing this because he wants to make me happy or something, and not like it’s a lead-up to that wonderful, life-changing moment when he asks me to be his wife. I mean, he obviously is doing these things to make me happy, but couldn’t he just, like, do these nice things after we’re good and betrothed? When I’m not in danger of beheading a gerbil?

And this would all be fine and dandy if I could at least have a moment where imminent engagement might not be around the corner. Did you know I’ve been wearing makeup to bed just in case he sneaks into my apartment and wakes me up with an early-morning proposal? What if he sneaks in with a photographer in tow? I wouldn’t blame him! Heck, I’d want pictures! But I’m not gonna have everybody on Facebook looking at my acne and bed hair just because I wasn’t prepared.

No, I am ready. At every moment, I am prepared to say yes, to cry, to dance, whatever. I will remain alert, full of stalwart vigilance, bursting to give a one-word answer to a four-word question.

So hurry it up, buck-o. The fate of some small animal might depend on it.