03 November 2012

Why You Shouldn't Marry Me

Well lassie, most women would want to know what they're getting into before they run off with some man. A silly request, you know.  If you knew what you were getting into, you wouldn't be getting into it.  Before I ask the question "Will you marry me?" I'll ask you something else.  "Are you sure you want to?"

Your clothes won't always be nice.  We won't have a fancy car or a big house.  No expensive dates (really, don't be so picky) or SleepCountry mattresses. We'll have to make do with cold floors and stale bread sometimes, we'll drink dew drops and trade a meal for some fiddle music. Our roof is the heavens, our bed is the heather. Basically, it won't always be comfy. I'm not a comfort-first person. I'm more of a comfort-after-I-walk-through-Mordor-and-back sort of person.

Oh, and by the way, I'll protect you with my life. I would die a thousand deaths for you, but unfortunately I can only afford one. So when the flames are closing in, I may or may not come just in the nick of time. In which case you might just have to save yourself. Sorry.

Children are born with imaginations so that their adulthood can exceed whatever they could have imagined. People play pirate when they're kids and then they grow up and have a normal life. Don't you get that the reason we ever had imaginary adventures is because we are to have real ones later on? I grew up playing racecars, astronauts, and swashbucklers. If you think we're just gonna play "house" for the rest of our lives, think again.

We'll travel to ever niche on the Earth. We'll meet the oddest people, enter the darkest places of suffering. We'll paint the light in every corner of the Universe, honey, because that's what Christians do.

Oh, and the kids? I'm sure they'll get used to it by their twelfth birthday. We'll give them strange names, like the names out of a fairy tale--Alice, and Gareth, and Palamon. I've always liked the name Tabitha.

There might be some unwarranted drama. I may even fail you sometimes, because I'm not perfect. 

"I've had enough!" you'll say. "I'm sick of risking our lives every other Tuesday! I want a normal life!"  

I'll implore you to stay, I'll beg forgiveness for every time I screwed up, but you'll pack your bags and head for the States.  Good heavens, of course I'll follow you!  I'll show up wherever you go, like the runaway bunny in that children's book I used to read.  I'll be the mountain you climb and the wind that carries you. Eventually you'll fall into my arms once more, because a man who would chase you across seven continents just because he needs someone to talk to is worth having one more adventure with.

In other words, lassie, marry me at your own risk.


5 comments:

  1. Oh my goodness me, so funny! Just love this bit; Oh, and by the way, I'll protect you with my life. I would die a thousand deaths for you, but *unfortunately I can only afford one.* :D

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  2. That was hilarious!! :D Love it.

    ~Riah

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  3. Hmmm... you know what, Raymond? I'm not sure she's going to say yes after that. Terribly sorry. But maybe you have a chance. Maybe.

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    Replies
    1. I know, right! It was more of a dare than a proposal. I thought I'd get it out there while I'm still young.

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