There were 2 for us actually - in a way.
The first time was the evening we first had met, and it wasn't a date. She got stuck in a cold windy rain storm on her motorcycle. I offered her to spend the night on my couch in my flat across the street. Well after midnight she told of herself and I told of myself. She was SO different from anyone I had ever known and talked of views and values I never imagined anyone would have or could exist. A perfect behavior history living to a long list of precise moral/religious rules and restrictions. She seemed equally amazed at my life of vices - exactly oppose her and her history. She told of never kissing anyone, never a cigarette, drugs or liquor, no swearing, family, goals, studies etc, etc - and I told of my life of no education, no family, getting drunk, getting stoned, fights and womanizing.
She looked all of age 15 (was actually 19) and I was 28. At no time did I see her as romantic potential (I'm not a pedophile).Rather that I was keeping a really cute little white girl safe for the night stuck in a bad part of black ghetto area I lived and worked in.
When she mentioned marriage and that she hoped to not have sex until marriage, though threw in maybe that wouldn't happen, since I was so exactly opposite of her I said, "well, you wouldn't marry someone like me then, would you?" She dropped her hands to her lap, dropped her head and closed her eyes for a few seconds. (I think she was praying.) Then looked up with big sparkling eyes and said: "YES. All that was before me."
I didn't realize it, but in that first few hours together, she took that as a marriage proposal and that she had accepted. From that moment - though she never said it, ever - her fixation in life was to make that happen. The next morning she asked me if I wanted to go to church with her, where she taught Sunday School for K-1 and sang in the choir. I had never been to a church, so went along. Soon, she was spending more and more nights on that couch - and was expelled from her church-college because of it - though there was nothing sexual about it. Given the choice of a bar-pickup for my bed or her just being there, I always preferred her being there. I think mutual infatuation and curiousity describes it.
PROPOSAL #2 - the real one.
She had been extremely injured and almost died of it. For 2 days, with her semi-conscious, unable to see (bandages) and mostly not conscious, in extreme pain, I whispered in her ear continuously - softly commanding her to "stay with me." To live. And for the first time told her I loved her. She clung onto my hand so very hard when I did. Other than rarely to my daughter (adopted), I had never told that to anyone before in my life - ever -nor ever thought I would. "Love" was neither a word nor even a concept in my childhood and a joke at the club. There, "love" just meant "sex." Nothing else. The number of times I was told anyone loved me as a child or youth was exactly never. A few times pickups from the club had told me she "loves" me, and my response was always "that's a mistake." Besides, those women were mostly just hoping for a rent-payer anyway.
When she was out of the hospital, countless surgeries still ahead of her and so many of her lifetime plans and goals shattered, I asked her what did she most want to accomplish in life and that I'd do anything I could for her to achieve it. She didn't hesitate for a second: "MARRY ME!" So I did. But I didn't really know what that meant other than I thought it some required pre-sex religious ritual of her religion and that we'd live together.