That's amore

I've only ever proposed marriage twice in my life. The first time was in 1979 and I really, genuinely and sincerely believed that it was the real thing. I was 19 and I was totally, absolutely and madly in love.

Her name was Angela. Her father was Greek and her mother was Italian and she was beautiful; from head to toe and from the inside out ... and she'd been engaged for some time to a 'nice' Italian boy.

I was, and am, painfully shy. Talkative. Very talkative; but painfully shy nonetheless. I know I tried not to make it obvious. She was engaged after all. I don't know whether I succeeded in not making it obvious. Not making my feelings obvious is something that I've never been very good at.

I got to meet her parents a couple of times. Once at a party as I recall. It wasn't a mad 21st century party. It was a very civilized social event and I showed my immaturity by getting stupidly drunk.

Her mother was a lovely lady. Eminently sensible and practical I thought. I spent several very pleasant hours in the kitchen with a coffee and a fag chatting with her about the world in general and Angela in particular. I like to think that she quite liked me. Her father struck me as a very taciturn man. Pleasant but very taciturn.

Then I got my break. At least that's the way I saw it. A friend of Angela's bumped into the fidenzato (in Rome I think it was - he was doing his national service as I recall) and he had a young lady with him. The friend asked the fidenzato who the young lady was and he practically dismissed her as 'just a friend'. The description obviously didn't please the young lady in question because she lost it. Threw a dicky fit. The story got back to London.

I saw that as the ideal opportunity to try to press my suit. With hindsight I can see it was probably the worst time to move but I moved anyway and proposed. I meant it. Every word of it. I wrote to her. I wrote to her because that way I could consider carefully every word whereas I was sure to make a total hash of it if I tried to say it face-to-face.

When she got my letter, she phoned me and was incredibly gentle with me. Generously so when I look back on it. She told me that neither of us were ready for such a massive commitment ... but I was convinced that I was and I was gutted. Again.

I still have a few photos and every now and again they appear on the screen saver and remind me ...