I, Amanda Lynn, take you,
To be my deeply damaged husband
To share in the shittiest parts of me,
The loneliness in company
The dismissive nods,
The demanding whims,
And the grudges I can’t let go of.
To have and to hold,
Clothes piled to the door,
Can one person really need a collection
The size of a department store?
For better or worse, mostly worse—
My stubbornness, a family curse.
For richer or poorer,
And let’s face it, probably broke,
This Amazon addiction—it’s no joke.
To stand by you,
With sharp words,
Short tempers,
And silent treatments.
In sickness and in health,
Be it blood pressure or stress,
And all the issues I don’t address.
To love and to cherish,
Till death do us part,
Or until we wind up in divorce court.
Note from the Author:
Maybe these are vows. Maybe they’re warnings.
Maybe this is what happens when someone doesn’t acknowledge and apologize.
I started this piece to be funny.
And somewhere along the way, truths started seeping through.
Then I wondered if they were maybe the same thing.
UNSCRIPTED 