By Cariahnna Collazo-Cintron

I packed my bags meticulously, trying to fit everything I could possibly want and need into my one and only weekender duffle bag. We were driving, but, for once, I wanted to try and pack light. “Light” is probably subjective since Kennedy, my partner, looked at me as I stuffed three cosmetics bags into the duffle and asked, “You need all of that and we are only going away for two days?” I rolled my eyes and thought, “TUH, this is nothing.”

Tucked away tightly in one of those cosmetics bags was a small faux leather cube with golden accents. When pried opened, the cube housed a size seven gold band adorned with small diamond accents–an engagement ring I had purchased approximately a month ago. The cube in question had been sitting quietly on top of my desk with the rest of my jewelry, hidden in plain sight. As I was packing, I looked at the ring box and thought to myself, “Just bring it.” I opened the box and took a look at the ring. I smiled. Hopeful, I placed it in one of my cosmetics bags and continued packing for our weekend getaway.

We were off to Kent, CT, approximately two to three hours away from home in NYC. I had heard about this annual hot air balloon festival hosted at Tymor Park that I thought would be the perfect romantic, adventurous escape from our usual fast-paced city life. We would arrive in the small charming town, check into our mountain cottage, and relax among the sounds of nature while enjoying the smell of lush foliage. The next day, we would delight in a quaint breakfast and visit the local shops until it was time to head over to Tymor Park for my surprise hot-air balloon date. Once the sun was setting, I would set up our tripod and pretend that we were going to take some pictures, instead, I would actually set up the camera to record me popping the big question. Lost in a sea of strangers, sun-kissed by the golden hour glow, with colorful hot air balloons surrounding us, we would become one step closer to being Mrs. and Mrs. (last name to be determined). It was a perfect plan.

Unfortunately, the universe wasn’t on my side. The drive up to Kent went surprisingly well for a Friday. We didn’t hit much traffic or need to use the restroom urgently. We arrived at our Airbnb exactly at 1:01 p.m. (a minute after check-in time began) and settled in quickly. Hungry, we set off to grab lunch. When I first planned our trip, I created an itinerary with the times and locations we would visit, so we didn’t struggle to try to find places to go in the little time we were there. 

We arrived at our lunch destination and were seated outside along a beautiful creek with running water and a dense tree backdrop. It was exactly what I had been hoping for. The food was decent, but not worth the two-and-a-half-hour drive we had endured to eat there. No biggie. On our way back into town, we enjoyed the beautiful mountain and forest scenery. Excited for the rest of our weekend, we got back to the Airbnb and relaxed for a bit until it was time to change and head out to dinner. 

To preface the culmination of the series of unfortunate events that occurred, I will note that Kennedy is sensitive to dairy and gluten, so I chose all of the restaurants we were going to visit because they accommodated her dietary needs. The romantic dinner I had planned was a bust. They ended up no longer offering the meal she planned on getting and the menu was pretty limited. Half of what she actually ordered never arrived and then when we finally left, there were pretty much no other dining options still open. It was our first night and things weren’t looking the greatest. Despite this, we were still in good spirits. On the drive back home, everything shifted. We ran over a raccoon that jumped in front of the car and were both traumatized for the rest of the night. I cried for the whole ride home. Emotionally drained, we ended our night upon arrival back at our Airbnb. 

The next morning, our emotions were still running high, but we talked it out and tried to get our day started on a positive note. “What could go wrong? It’s just breakfast,” we agreed as we made our way over to a local eatery for omelets. After eating, Kennedy’s stomach began to hurt. I suspected that this restaurant partook in the common diner practice of lacing their scrambled eggs with pancake batter to make them last longer. Remember when I said Kennedy is sensitive to gluten? Yeah… so you can probably tell where this is going. 

Before I continue, I’ll add that before we left the room, she realized that she had accidentally left her daily medication at home. Kennedy has a condition called POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome) which affects the way her heart beats and the way her blood flows through her body, which results in numerous side effects such as extreme fatigue, dizzy spells, elevated heart rates, muscle soreness, etc. Her daily medication helps to regulate her heart rate, keeping it much lower (around 85-89 bpm resting) than it would be without it. So, needless to say, it's very important for her to have.

Medicationless and ridden with gluten-induced stomach pain, Kennedy was not in a good place. Worried about her health and her ability to continue on for the rest of the day's activities, I became very anxious. Things had not been going well, and today was supposed to be the day that I would propose. I had so much built-up excitement and anxiety for this trip, all of these universe-sponsored inconveniences felt like personal attacks on my plans. Not to mention, Aunt Flo was in town, so my emotions were already heightened. 

I wanted to cheer her up, make things right, and try to distract her from not feeling well. There was a large book sale happening a few blocks away, so I took her there and told her to pick out what she wanted (she loves to read). Everything was pretty cheap, so I bought her around 12 books for $20. Happy but unwell, Kennedy and I went back to the room to hopefully allow her to recharge until it was time for my big date. I was hoping she would have enough time to recover and would be okay by the time we had to leave to head over to Tymor. 

“WHO THE FUCK IS MESSING WITH US?!”, I thought, referring to the bad luck that had hung onto our heels.

It was now lunchtime, and Kennedy and I were sitting across from one another waiting to order our food. She was hugging her stomach, hunched over the edge of the table. My hope was dwindling. She wasn’t getting better, and time was running out. My plan was failing, my weekend trip was failing, and Kennedy was sick. I began to cry. “We should just stay in the room. You don’t feel well and we still have to drive to, attend, and drive back from the event,” I told her. She sat up. “No, I took a Tylenol when we sat down and that’s helping. Hopefully, I will feel better after I eat,” she responded. I was wiping away tears from my face, but I couldn’t stop them from flowing. I felt so defeated. I was disappointed in what had become of this magical weekend that I had hoped to have and was confused why the universe wasn’t helping me execute my perfect plan. “WHO THE FUCK IS MESSING WITH US?!”, I thought, referring to the bad luck that had hung onto our heels. Kennedy and I both shook our heads. 

After eating, she was feeling better. We made our way to the event, only to be met with further disappointment and frustration. After parking the car and hiking through the park grounds to get to the event’s entrance, we sat down in the grass and waited until balloon launch time (5:30 p.m.). The host took the mic from the DJ and announced that due to severe winds, the hot air balloons were being held for a bit longer and they would update us as time went on. At 7 p.m., they announced that the balloons would not be launched due to the wind. We left (I didn’t propose) and we headed to dinner, to hopefully end the night on a good note. 

We arrived at a cozy, chic, romantic lodge restaurant adorned with warm string lights. As we entered, I immediately perked up. It was beautiful, quaint, and romantic. “This is it,” I thought to myself. I went to the restroom and mentally prepared myself with a new proposal plan. When I sat down, we both were excited about the food and what seemed like it would be a good close to our eventful day. Kennedy loves Nutella and this restaurant had a gluten-free chocolate hazelnut mousse lava cake on its menu. She was buzzing with excitement. We ate, we laughed, and when the dessert menu came, it was devoid of the lustrous chocolate hazelnut dream that Kennedy had been anticipating. 

Despite the culinary disaster in our wake, I still wanted this night to end on OUR note. I kept trying to give a small romantic speech and was holding the ring box under the table secretly. Kennedy was upset about the cake and couldn’t stop talking about it and when she did, the waiters would come by the table. I was at a loss for words. My heart was racing and I was choking on my words. I couldn’t think on the spot and was too anxious to say the four words that I had been holding onto for the past two days. I paid the bill and we left.

We headed back to our room and undressed. In the comfort of each other's arms and our only audience being the crickets singing at the window, I began my speech. With tears dripping down my face, my words were flowing much more freely. Kennedy and I had been practicing saying “Will you marry me,” to each other casually in preparation for whenever the big day came. As my speech came to a close, she looked at me and said, “Babe.” I knew that she was going to drop a casual “Will you marry me?” I tried to interrupt her by saying, “I have a question.” 

But, she continued, “Will you marry me?” I responded, “Yes, will YOU marry me?” She said “Yes.” I reached my hand beneath my pillow where I had hidden the ring once we got home. I grabbed the box, opened it behind my back, and brought it forward. “So, will you marry me?” I asked her with tears running down my face. In disbelief, she said, “Babe that’s a real ring.” She grabbed it from my hand. “Let me see this,” she said as she inspected the ring. “Are you really asking me??” I told her I was, and she said, “Of course, I will, yes!” We both cried harder and kissed.

We spent the rest of the night cuddling and talking, two fiancées—one elated and one in shock. Q

Cariahnna Collazo-Cintron is a NuyoRican neurodivergent activist who aspires to become a social worker and pursue a career in non-profit management. She is a licensed Esthetician, mid-sized model, and self-proclaimed Maxxinista who loves to cook, dance, browse metaphysical shops with her fiancé Kennedy, or go for strolls with their two dogs, Khaleesi and Rhaego. "Join me as I peel back the layers of my life in search of the woman I am destined to become—forging my path and mending the cracks, one story at a time.”