Of Marriage and a Man

Down the lane of the future, I contemplate that walk of a lifetime down the aisle, clad in a pristine snow-colored gown with a coronet encircling my mane and my face veiled from the view of him whom my eyes are yet to fall upon and my heart is yet to love.

My friend once asked me if I was interested in marriage because the word never rolled off my tongue. And I told her, “Of course I am- just at the right time with the right man.”

I’m sixteen and the day I wed seems like it’s light years away, but nevertheless, every lass still fantasizes about what her Prince Charming might be. As for me, I have a checklist too, and I just hope he ticks all the boxes.

I’ve never fallen in love before, but when Heaven intersects my path with his, I want to fall in love every single day in every single way. Sometimes people look to the firmament to gaze at the stars, but to catch a glimpse of Heaven, I wish to look no further than his eyes.

He should be someone who enhances the spiritual context of love in my life- falling in love with The Author of Love more and more everyday while falling in love with him.

I don’t want our love to be encapsulated in a professional pre or post-nuptial framed snapshot, but rather, to be exuded when I am clad in the attire of the woman of the house. I want to feel the same tingles and accelerated heartbeats even when time sacks the elasticity of my skin and bleaches my hair.

I just hope he’ll be someone who will love me even when I can’t love myself, whose eyes will light up like a million light bulbs at the thought of me and who will be one with me at heart though we will be two separate bodies.

I want a man not only to wed and to bed, but to have and to hold from that day forward, in good times and in bad times, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, to love me and honor me all the days of my life.

And I will make him the same promise when that magical day dawns.


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