“Emily, Will you, um, marry me?”
“No. What do you mean ‘will you, um, marry me?’ I haven’t seen you in weeks. You don’t look happy or excited at the prospect of our marriage. You’re asking me to give up my freedom, my joie de vivre for an institution that fails as often as it succeeds? And why should I marry you anyway? I mean, why do you wanna marry me? Besides some bourgeois desire to fulfil an ideal that society embeds in us from an early age to promote a consumer capitalist agenda?”
“Oh! Oh, my God.”
“You should’ve just got on your knees”
“Just shut up! Here… I wanna marry you because you’re the first person I wanna look at when I wake up in the morning, and the only one I wanna kiss goodnight. Because the first time that I saw these hands, I couldn’t imagine not being able to hold them. But mainly, when you love someone as much as I love you, getting married is the only thing left to do. So, will you, um, marry me?”
“Definitely. Maybe”

 

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