On an usually warm February night, my then boyfriend, and I were taking a walk along a nearby creek. We were almost back to our house, when I looked over at him, as he dropped to one knee to propose to me, under the orange glow of the street light. Although it wasn’t anything grand, and it was just us, I look back on that moment and smile, because that was a small representation of us; of our simple and quaint relationship. We didn’t need anything but us, much like when Jim proposed to Pam at a gas station, in the middle of nowhere, really. It was just them, in the moment, even though they were surrounded by the waterfall of rain pounding on the aluminum roof of the station, the zooming of cars passing by, as the water in the potholes splashed all around them.