Holy matrimony, baloney

Saying the words “I love you” is hard enough,
let alone saying the words
“I do.”

Two evenings ago, someone very close to me’s little sister announced her engagement. To her family’s dismay.
She’s freshly twenty-one. Her fiancé, the tender age of twenty.
Young.

It isn’t their age or the lack there of
that has inspired this post. No, it’s the setup.
But when questioned what each other’s eye color was,
they were wrong.
When asked favorite colors,
they were not even close.

And when asked what it was about the other person
that indicated they should spend the rest of their lives together,
there was silence, stumbling-bumblings
and “I don’t knows, I just can’t explain-ems” from both parties.

What makes this scary is
that their first date was Dec. 21, 2007.
They were engaged a week and a half later.
Their wedding day is March 22, 2008.
For those bad at math that’s three months.
Signed. Sealed. Delievered. All in less than a semester.

But, when is the right time to say,
“let’s spend together forever”?
Hell, if I knew that answer Dr. Phil’s
secret love affair with Oprah might be bamboozled.

I do know, however, you should at least know whom you’re marrying.
Unless you’re really into sadomasochism.
Or drive-thru Vegas weddings.