Dear Future Me About to Marry a Guy, If I Ever Choose to Spend My Life With Anyone Besides Many Dogs

This blog post was inspired by two things:
A long conversation I had a few nights ago with a friend about love,
which is my all-time favorite sport,
and watching my dad take care of my mom during a raging flu.

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Dear Future Me About to Marry a Guy,

You sure?

Let me back up. I’m going to assume you started to choose him at the very beginning for good reasons. I’m going to assume he chose you for the same (bless his heart). I’m going to assume that you’ve continued to choose each other through the requisite stops and starts: After the first five minutes of the second date; before the DTR. After the honeymoon period; before he meets your tequila I mean your family. After the dog and also before the dog.
There is a dog, right?
Leave if there isn’t at least one.

But, okay, allow me to make it weird. I just heard a story about some woman’s badass vows, and I have a question: Could you keep on choosing him for the rest of your life?

 

I’ve created a questionnaire to help further confuse you: 

  • If it gets boring as sh*t, will you still choose him?
  • If you become attracted to someone else, will you still choose him?
  • If your love becomes something totally different from the post-engagement mosh pit of joy and romance it probably feels like now, will you still choose him?
  • Does it feel like your bones will always choose him, basically against your will, even if your brain and/or crotch try to choose someone else?
  • And will he always choose you, too?

 

Walk with me here:

  • Imagine him barfing up sotanghon on a rainy Monday night.
    Do you still choose him?
  • Imagine you becoming the sole breadwinner.
    Do you still choose him?
  • Imagine he loses a motor skill. Or four.
    Do you still choose him?
  • Imagine he calls waiters “waiter.”
    Do you still choose him? (I effing hope not)

 

See also: 

  • Could you trust that in choosing him, it might mean sometimes choosing other things – his passions, the children (and/or dogs), a foreign new home – and you’d not only be okay with it, but feel in your chest that it’s the right thing to do?
  • Meaning, you selfish brat, actually and often not choosing You?
    Have you gotten over yourself enough to do that yet?
  • Could you trust that choosing him does not make him your “EvErYthiNg”; that it doesn’t close the door to the village you know it takes to keep your heart safe?
  • Could you trust that choosing him might mean choosing to step outside of yourselves and seek help?
  • Could you trust that choosing him does not mean losing you?
  • Will you know, if necessary, when to not choose him anymore?
  • And does it feel like I think it should—that choosing him, at its best, feels a lot like choosing yourself, anyway?

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Forgive the ramblings of your ratchet 26-year-old self—what the crap do I know? I ask these questions now as much out of caution as, well, curiosity.
Dude, I JUST WANT WHAT’S BEST FOR US. 

… I just made it weird again, didn’t I?

(Also, has Donny approved? You know how this works.)

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