Growing up, my father told me marriage is a lie
I shouldn’t believe romance movies or pastors
Telling me marriage is the cornerstone of love
They’re not asking for approval of some God
They are not licensing their right to love and to hold
All they want is a grand Facebook post
They’re not celebrating eternal commitment
Their happiness is when they receive a thousand likes and comments
He says as he takes a swing of his fourth beer of the day
My father told me not to fall for their tricks
He doesn’t want to catch me crying
He tells me romance was invented by capitalists
To equate our paychecks to the size of our hearts
If a boy would propose, I should say no
No amount of reasoning or motivation
Should convince me to legally bind our status
He says this as he trades his beer for whiskey
Later that night, he was singing
Bon Jovi’s “You give love a bad name”
Slurring the lyrics, he broke a guitar string
He is quiet, sits down taking a couple sips from his glass
He played chords of a familiar tune
Then I heard him humming, “here comes the bride.”
Dear Juliet 