I Think I Want To Marry You


I think I want to marry you, and that scares the shit out of me. My whole life, I’ve been led to believe that marriage sucks. Every sitcom and comedian has cashed in on the joke that is monogamy. My coworkers are constantly complaining about their spouses. Even my friends and family have shown me that long after saying “I do,” all the things I love about my relationship will change. It’s engrained in me. I’ve come to believe that spontaneity will stop, romantic gestures will become extinct, sparks will fade, and sex (when it actually happens) will be vanilla and boring.

Statistics tell me there’s a good change this won’t last. None of my past relationships have lasted, which is why I’m here now. So why even marry? Why spend half a years’ salary on a one-day celebration to join ourselves and families if it’s inevitably going to end? Why go through the long and tricky process of completely blending our lives, belongings, schedules, and finances if eventually we’ll be divvying it all back up? Doesn’t everything have an expiration date?

Despite my fears, I think I still want to marry you, and that doesn’t make any sense to the logical side of my brain. I should be walking running sprinting the other way, but instead, the only place I want to run to is your arms. I know of the towering challenges and statistics but instead of cowering in their shadows, I want to engulf them in light and make the darkness dissipate. Because as intimidating as the path ahead is, our love, together, can overcome anything. I feel it when I look into your eyes. It’s so much deeper than superficial beauty in them, beyond the stormy blueness of your irises. It’s in your core. It’s soft and strong and simultaneously as far from and close to perfect as anything could ever be.

I think I want to marry you because we feed off of each other in the best possible way. We were already independent, responsible adults separately, and together we’re even better. If we joined forces we’d be unstoppable. You make me feel like there’s no limit to anything, ever. There’s always a way to be smarter and healthier and wiser. You make me want to be all of those things, but at the same time you don’t make me feel like I have to be. You’ve never tried to change anything about me. You love me for who I am, which somehow, for some reason, makes me want to be even better.

I think I want to marry you because of the way I feel in your presence. You make me feel confident and strong, but more importantly, safe. It’s a level of comfort I’ve never experienced before. When I’m with you, even if nothing else is okay, we’re okay. Deep down, I’m okay. Being in your arms is like breathing a sigh of comfort. It’s the feeling of relief you get pulling into your driveway after a long day of work, or that exact moment when your head hits the pillow and you can finally close your eyes. I’ve lived in seven different places throughout the past six years, but when I’m with you, it finally feels like I’m home.

I think I want to marry you because even after all of this time has passed and the butterflies that used to tickle my stomach have calmed, I still look at you and feel excited – only it’s different. It’s better. It’s not a new-love, anxious, jittery excited. It’s a calm excitement. I look at your face and wonder how it will age and I long for mine to age with it. I hold your hands and think of all the places we can visit, the things we can do, the incredible lives we can create for ourselves side by side. Hand in hand.

I think I want to marry you, mostly, because as fucking scary as it is and as challenging as it will be, I cannot imagine a life without you. I can’t fathom a future where I don’t wake up next to you every morning or fall asleep with you every night. I can’t dream of making dinners or going camping or sitting on the porch with a six pack listening to baseball on the radio with anyone else. It’d be so much easier to run away, but it’ll be so much more fulfilling to stay. If we can somehow make this work, it will be the most incredible, worthwhile, rewarding thing either of us ever does.

I think I want to marry you, and I think you want to marry me. And if you asked, I would say yes. TC Mark

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