WILL I BE MARRIED?

I was told the average girl begins to plan her wedding at the age of 7

I was told that she picks the colors and the cake first

About the age of 10 she knows the time and the location

By 17 she’s already chosen a gown and a Maid of Honor

By 22, she’s waiting for a man who doesn’t break out in hives

When he hears the word “commitment”

Someone who doesn’t smell like a band-aid drenched in lonely

Someone who is more than a temporary solution to the empty side of the bed

Someone who will hold her hand like it’s the only one that he’s ever seen

To be honest, I don’t know what tuxedo I’ll be wearing

I have no clue what my wedding will look like

But I imagine that the woman who i believe for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health

Will butterfly down the aisle like a 5-foot promise

I imagine that her smile will be so big that you will see it on Google maps

And know exactly where our wedding is being held

See the woman that I plan to marry will have champagne in her walk

And I will get drunk on her footsteps

When the headman asks me if I take this woman to be my wife

I will say yes before he even finishes the sentence

I’ll apologize later for being impolite but I will also explain to him

That our first kiss happened a few times ago and I’ve been practicing my “yes”

When people ask me about my wedding, I really never know what to say

When they ask me about my future wife, I always tell them

That her eyes are the only Christmas lights

That deserve to be seen all year long

I tell them, that she has a walk that can make an atheist believe in God

Just long enough to say “Goddamn”, I tell them

That if my alarm clock sounded like her voice

My snooze button would collect dust

I tell them, that if she came in a bottle

I would drink her until my vision is blurry

And my friends take away my keys, I tell them

That if she was a book, I would memorize her table of contents

I would read her cover to cover, hoping to find typos

Just so we could both have something to work on

Because aren’t we all unfinished, don’t we all need editing

Aren’t we all waiting to be read to be someone

Praying they will tell us that we make sense?

She don’t always make sense, but I swear to God her imperfections

Are the things that I love about her the most

I don’t know will I be married

I don’t know when I will be married

I don’t know where I will be married

But I do know this

Whenever I’m asked to describe my future wife

I do so as best as I can

And every single time, she sounds a lot like you

And every single time, she sounds a lot like you