It's weird. It just is. Like, how crazy is the concept of marriage. You wander around through life by yourself, searching for someone to love. Going out with friends who set you up with someone they think is good for you, and they're not. They spend the time to try and pick someone out, and half the time you end up looking at your friends wondering if they really know you at all, because the person they picked out is the worst thing ever for you. Or you e-date and find out that half the people on those sites are psycho basement dwellers. Rinse and repeat that until someday when you least expect it, you crash into some other human on this rock that catches your attention. Stumble through your words and somehow convince them that you're worth their time to spend money on a meal and maybe a movie or something, and if you're lucky, you get a second chance to spend time with this new interesting person, and if you make it through the rounds, you end up becoming an 'item'. Exclusive and unavailable to everyone else.
Then over time, your feelings escalate, climbing each level of the emotional stories through the building of your mind faster than anything's ever moved in your mind before, and somehow you find yourself buying gifts for them, becoming twitter pated and all giggly and googly-eyed over this one-in-seven-billion-person, and as time passes on, you feel like you want to pick this one over anyone else to spend the rest of your life with. They're the best you want, the best you need, and the best you crave. No one else matters as much as them, and even if Emma Watson or Bradley Cooper walked in the door and begged you to date them, you'd still be stuck and fixated on the one person that you're smitten over.
Eventually you have this sunshiny and rainbowy epiphany when the clouds part, heaven sings and cherubs are pointing your way to a giant wake up sign above your person that says 'they're the one. Pick this one!'. Then you go through the hoops of signing off on a loan to buy a rock wrapped ontop of some metal, only to take this person out to someplace on this earth that's significant to only you two for some romantic reason, you get on a knee and ask them to sign their life away to you and stick it side by side with you, never to part and forever to be together. Because they're the person you realize you want to go through everything together. No matter what. Thick and thin, good times and bad, whether you're rich as Donald Trump or poor as Detroit, you're in it together.
After the proposal, you decide to stand in front of the other friends and family, have a guy tell you to repeat after him and symbolically declare your love to each other, sign off a contract saying you're responsible for each other, and then go off on a vacation to celebrate by having sex and laying around for a few days before returning to reality.
Yet as life moves on, you create other little humans, buy a dog, pay for a house, and live a life with another person you picked out of the crowd as your favorite person in the world. Someone who once was a complete stranger and you never knew, but somehow became attracted to and chose to stay with forever. Unless of course you're stuck with parents who decide to arrange your marriage. Then you're screwed being stuck with someone you have no choice to be with or not because someone else took that responsibility upon themselves to do because they thought you weren't capable of picking out the right stranger. So at least there's that happy ending...
