Non-members can read it here.
When I say I don't believe in marriage, I lie. The words come out as if I've rehearsed them in front of a mirror long enough to make them sound like truth. But beneath the surface, something small and stubborn trembles. I pretend I'm immune to the idea of forever, but I catch myself imagining the soft rituals of two lives braided together. A shared cup of tea cooling on the table, a familiar silhouette waiting at the doorway, the gentle certainty of a hand that knows how to find mine in the dark. Maybe a what-we-wanna-do-today on Sunday morning.
I claim disbelief because it's easier than confessing that the dream has disappointed me before, easier than admitting I still yearn for a love that stays even when the world frays at the edges. I say I don't believe in marriage—but the truth is my heart whispers its belief in secret like a prayer I'm embarrassed to pray aloud.
Because the truth is, disbelief is a shield I learned to hold a little too tightly. It keeps me from admitting how tender my longing really is. How it rises in unexpected moments, like when I watch two strangers laugh as they cross the street, or when I see an elderly couple leaning into each other as if time itself were a familiar friend.
I tell myself I don't need that kind of closeness, that I'm better off untouched by the weight of vows and expectations. But deep down, I know better. I know that some part of me still aches for a home built in the shape of another person, a home made of shared silences and overlapping breaths.
I say I don't believe in marriage because it feels safer to dismiss the dream than to risk breaking under its absence. But if I need to be honest, I want the kind of love that chooses me without hesitation. I want the promise that is made not with perfect certainty, but with gentle devotion. I want a forever that grows, even if I'm afraid to say it out loud. And maybe one day, when the world feels kinder, I'll stop pretending disbelief is strength, and finally admit the truth that I've always believed in marriage. I've just been waiting for a reason to trust it again.
I want to be someone's someone.
I want to be the person someone looks for in a crowded room, the name that softens their voice, the presence that feels like home after a long, unforgiving day. I want to be someone's reason to stay, not because they're bound by ceremony or promises written on paper, but because their heart keeps turning toward mine, again and again.
I want to be the warmth someone reaches for without thinking, the story someone tells when they speak of comfort, the future someone imagines when they talk about morning light and growing old.
I wanna make my all-time favorite love songs come true. I wanna live in The Gambler by fun. I wanna live in Her by JVKE. I wanna live in every love song that ever existed. Maybe later?