So, the marraige proposals. Let’s go down memory lane one by one, shall we?
The first one was right before graduating high school. He was very cute and convinced that we would never see each other again. That’s why he cornered me after school and suggested we get married. I had no clue what he was talking about, but he turned out to be right, we never did see each other again after graduation. He was cool, but we actually never did date. I was friends with his smart younger brother who always listened to my problems
and did my homework for me. We were like besties. Anyway, the cute brother was my fake boyfriend once so I could get this other guy off my back. We were in fake relationship bliss when he publicly dumped me by taking some girl to a club we snuck into that we all hung out at. I was at home painting my nails sparkly gold when a text blast blew up my phone of people siting my fake boyfriend with his real date. How dare he? Turns out, the guy I was avoiding had challenged him to a duel or some ish by the basketball courts and instead of fighting for my honor, he hooked up with another chick for a real relationship. Looking back, I think the marriage wouldn’t have worked out anyway because when the going gets tough, he ran into another bitch’s arms.
Number two. I pretty well off dude. Accounting. Okay looking. And boring as fuck. I dated him and we had some good times. He said I made him feel alive. Of course I did, he was a walking piece of cardboard. He had to move for his job and decided to propose to me so I would go with him. But the thought of spending the rest of my life with him and his money made me want to jump out a window due to boredom.
Three. Went to Vegas with a few girls. That’s where I met…I don’t really remember his name. Tom, let’s say. Tom and I hit it off instantly. We got each other’s humor. We read each other’s minds.
We were both really wasted. Naturally, I wanted to have a Britney moment and he was on the same page. Everything made sense under drunk logic and was awesome. (Drunk logic always seems more logical and you wonder why you didn’t think of these things or agree with them when you’re sober.) Dude didn’t have the money to have the quickie wedding of our dreams and I think it was a sign from God. I mean if he can’t pay for the wedding, he can’t pay for the annulment. Or the divorce and my alimony payments. Vegas weddings for shits and giggles are never wise.
Last but not least. A financier. Wall street type. Tall and handsome. Took me wherever I wanted to go. Let me do most of the talking. Jack pot yes? Not when the proposal is accompanied with ‘you don’t wanna die alone, wrinkly with 20 cats do you?’ Why did he have to go there? To my worst fear of being ugly old and surrounded by pets that I’m allergic to? That was just mean. Just because I look good on your arm and like your money doesn’t mean that I don’t have feelings and fears too! Is that how he’s gonna play it? And these threats will haunt me all throughout the marriage. Wash the dishes or else you’ll die alone. Clean the house or I’ll adopt a cat. Get me my coffee because no one else will date your wrinkly ass now. No, no, hell no. If anyone’s gonna be doing the manipulating/insulting it’s me!
I firmly believe the execution and effort put into the proposal influences how things will go down the marriage, and I have no regrets. My proposal should involve fireworks, a horse-drawn carriage, a big ring, undying compliments and devotion, candle light, a rainbow, violins coming from seemingly nowhere, rose petals, and an audience. Then and only then, will I know he is the one. I’m still young and have plenty of time to break more hearts to find my king!