A whispered word, a muffled promise, indistinguishable over the bellow of the hearts. The sound isn’t that of affection or the beat of recognition, for we are strangers. We were brought together in the frost of the morning to join as one before the eyes of God. A conspired union not of our choosing, an arrangement made.
Now here we stand, in a room where we will become less like strangers, our hidden identities begin to be revealed. I draw closer to you, hoping to know the man underneath. A storm of emotions crash through me; scared, hopeful, timid, excited. My adrenaline rushes, like the gymnast on a pommel horse, striving for the perfect outcome. At this moment, blazing through all the emotions and adrenaline, is a red hot desire to know you intimately.
But what of the future? Will you fulfill those muffled promises of happily ever after, or will we find ourselves dreaming of boxcars, hopping trains that take us far away from each other? Am I or can I be what you expect in me? Are you or will you become what I hope for in you? Do those who brought us together have the wisdom to have made a perfect match?
Can we become strangers no more?