The morning she left the vanity drawer ajar, I spotted the glint of a tiny box. A diamond. How long had she carried it, waiting? My head spun. I bolted. That night, eyes swollen, she whispered, “I wish only one of us were the fool.”
Her Bed Is Already a Future Diary
For three months we have repeated the same sentence. Marriage. She savors the word; it kills me. Every dawn she scrolls pastel Pinterest weddings, filtered selfies with phantom toddlers. In every frame I vanish.
I’m not afraid of forever; I’m afraid I can’t swear I’ll stand still in front of one person forever.
Two True-Enough Stories
Mina & Jun-ho, Year Five
Mina, thirty-five; Jun-ho, thirty-seven. While their peers race to altars, Mina issues an ultimatum. “I want to be warming a bottle by next year.” Jun-ho pretends to watch TV. The screen is blank; a 0 % ratings heart beats anyway. Mina has already downloaded the marriage form. Jun-ho bites a cookie and thinks, One bite, and love ends.
Eugene & Serin, Year Eight
Eugene is a musical actor, Serin a director. Behind the velvet curtain they stand in an empty theater. “Do we still have a reason to keep this going?” Eugene asks. Serin kills the lights instead of answering. In the dark, Eugene’s breath grazes Serin’s cheek. Silently: If you leave me, I’ll make you remember me forever. When the lights return, Eugene’s eyes are red. They ache to break each other; breaking is an ending.
Why Do We Crave This Hell?
Is monogamy a sacred realm or a throne of power? Society has turned love into arithmetic: meet → date → cohabit → marry → procreate. Stray from the path and you’re a dropout. Dropouts are filthy.
Why am I filthy? Or rather, Why do I ache to be filthy? The taste of taboo is sweet. The instant I refuse to sign the contract of forever, I gain immense freedom—and an immense guilt. Some call marriage love’s shield; I call it another name for prison. We want love without end yet know we can’t endure the endless. So we arrive at the fork: marry or break. Goodbye is already buried inside us; only the timing differs.
Last Question
Right now, if you cannot promise marriage to the one you love, do you truly love them? Or are you simply a frightened child who dreads love cooling, dreads love hardening—forever avoiding the finish line?