I have an inherent fear of marriage. The fear of seeing my own marriage fail and fall to pieces. I have seen so many failed ones that it haunts my head. Like a ghost with unresolved regrets.
But darling, I must have lost my mind when I thought, I couldn’t wait to get married to you, and we can live together in happy bliss. Okay, the last part is purely my fantasy. No one lives in a happy bliss forever.
But I still think that’s okay. I though, maybe, just maybe, you can turn my worries into nothing. Maybe we can make it work. Maybe a happy ending isn’t something that only belongs in a fairy tale.
I admit, my reasons are selfish. I want someone to hug me and say it’s okay when I feel that everything is not. I want someone to share my problems and help me out with it. I want someone to cuddle with me and do silly shit together.
I don’t want to go through this life alone. I have had enough of being alone.
But above all, I want to be the one to offer you a shoulder to cry to, to say it’s okay to cry. I want to be a safe place for you to shed your heroism streak and just be how you want to be for once. I want to be the one you search for when you don’t want anyone else to bother you. I want to be your band-aid, and you can be mine.
Cuz I know, we both know, we’re not perfect. We strive to look perfect and happy on the outside but in truth we hold the broken pieces of our heart, the jagged shards of our dreams and the jaded half of ourselves deep within us.
And I want to be the one who saves you, and you, me.