Knew this chick that desperately wanted to be married. Every date was discussed, ad nauseaum, with the header of "Is He The One?"
She found a guy and they moved in together. She told him that he had 9 months to decide to get married or to move on. She told him she had a loose diamond that could be set into a ring. She told him where the diamond stone was. She told him her ring size. She went shopping for wedding dresses.
He had the diamond set into an engagement ring and presented it to her minutes before we were scheduled to have dinner at their place. We exclaimed, congratulated and toasted, blah, blah, blah. Then, somebody, NOT ME, asked when the wedding would occur.
She reaches under the sofa and pulls out a manila folder, TWO INCHES THICK, and proceeds to share her ideal dream wedding, complete with wedding magazine tear sheets of the dress, invitation, you name it.
My jaded ass asked, "How long have you had this folder?" Three years, she says, though they have only dated for 10 months. You should have seen his reaction. It was a wince, I tell ya. Like a television commercial graphic, I saw the letters superimposed on his face - DOOMED. I was right. They married and they divorced.
Don't let your guy think he is just the tuxedo boy on top of the cake.
Don't demand a proposal, you might just get it.
Keep a little mystery about yourself.