I never believed in love. I never believed in marriage. I always thought that romance was just a stupid excuse.

"Sorry I'm late, my wife-"

"My husband isn't doing so well, so I had to-"

"I love her. Accept her for who she is or-"

Love is an easy way out. It allows people to slide past real-world issues. Why should I care that your boyfriend proposed to you? Did he stop that man from shooting so many innocent people in the mall that day? Being romantic isn't a way of life. Love is a phase. A mental disorder. A virus in the brain. And ever since the recent drop in the population, romance has replaced its real skin with plastic. Which is even worse, considering what the government is doing.

A new law was passed. Anyone not married past the age of 25 shall be matched with a significant other who contains the same values, interests, and morals. Divorce has now been terminated. However, half the time these marriages don't even last a year and people separate anyway. I do not know what happens to those who separate. I heard rumors that men are taken away and have reproductive samples stolen from them, only to never be seen again. As for the women, I heard that the government impregnates them with the samples they stole. Once a baby is born, she is left to die in a chamber. Of course, I don't know if these are true. But if it is true... then something isn't right.

When I was little, this is how I imagined marriage: tears, arguments, bruises, and blood splatter. Fists, sharp objects, slamming noises, red, white, and blue flashing lights, the sound of sirens getting closer and closer. Every day I watched nature take its course. Sometimes I wondered how two rabid hyenas produced a small, worthless little roach who got stepped on every opportunity they had. I didn't understand the purpose of my existence.

Yet here I am, over twenty-five, neatly dressed, standing on a platform next to some priest, waiting for a stranger to walk down the aisle. There were more strangers watching me in the chairs before me. This was a church but the atmosphere was gloomy and eerie to me, as if I was being put on trial, awaiting to be judged. Those strangers sitting next to each other with stoic expressions on their faces were probably government officials who needed to witness this wedding in order for it to be accepted. I stared at the door at the end of the aisle and thought to myself. "Are they really doing this to me?"

Suddenly, the sound of an organ begins to echo off of the walls and the strangers stand up and face the exit. When the doors opened wide, a little girl holding a basket walked down first and threw rose petals on the floor. Then, two men in suits walked down the aisle while linking both arms of a woman draped in white silk. Behind her was a child, a boy, who carried a small black box. The two men guided the woman with the white silk covering her face onto the platform where I was and left her there in front of me. The boy then gave the priest the box and walked away.

The woman didn't say anything. She just stood perfectly still, like a statue, and faced me. I immediately wondered what she was thinking. "Just kill me now, why don't you?"

The organ eventually stopped playing and everyone sat back down. "We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's most greatest moments," The old priest began to speak. "And to cherish the words that will unite these two children of God, who have not been given a chance to do so."

Children of God? Since when were we children of God?

The priest smiles and lifts up the woman's silk, and revealed her face. I looked at the woman who locked eyes with mine. She was indeed beautiful, and had brown hair that touched her shoulders. Her skin was fair and had glasses over her eyes. But, she was in shock. She wasn't even surprised or happy to finally meet me. There was fear in her brown eyes- and not of me, but of something else.

And for a decent looking girl, I'm rather surprised that she has yet to be married.

"Will you two state your names so that it will forever be embedded in your memory?" The priest then asked. He gestured for the woman to speak first. She didn't look anywhere else. She just stared at me. There was silence until the priest asked once again. Soon, the woman blinked and opened her mouth. "...Hanji." Her voice was puny... but warm. When the priest looked at me, I quickly searched for my voice. "It's... its Levi."

"Levi and Hanji," The priest cried, almost startling the woman. "This ceremony is a blessing. A gift sent from the heavens. This ceremony will create a relationship that may not exist between you two just yet. However, with time, the both of you will grow stronger as individuals, and as forever partners... you may even discover a hidden bond. After all, this is God's plan." The priest then opened the box he had in his hands and took out what looked like a stamp. But this stamp had tiny needles on it. I expected rings, but clearly this was something entirely new.

The old man turned to me and asked for my wrist. I was hesitant, and I didn't want to do this anymore, but I knew I had to listen. So, I showed him my wrist and pulled my sleeve back to show my skin. Then, he continued. "Levi, do you promise to care, cherish, and love this woman, and sacrifice everything, including yourself, to keep her safe for as long as you live?" How can I promise such a thing if I just met her? This system makes no sense. This isn't God's plan. Why would he say such a thing? That's like saying "it was my plan for you to go to jail and get violated by inmates."

I came back to reality when I realized that I was taking long to answer. I don't want to do this. But I don't want to deal with the government either. Ugh... might as well see how it goes. We're already here, so might as well answer this fraud. "I promise." Perhaps I'm over exaggerating, but I felt as if my soul has now escaped my body. As if I signed a pact or something.

The priest then turns to Hanji, and I could have sworn that I saw her flinch. "Hanji, do you promise to care, cherish, and love this man, and sacrifice everything, including yourself, to keep him safe for as long as you live?" He asked, and waited for her to answer. She swallowed, glanced at him, then at me, and then at the crowd. She was probably thinking about this entire thing. Hanji was torn; get married to a stranger? Or refuse to make a promise and deal with authority? She had a choice, but no voice to say otherwise. In her mind, I could only imagine the voices telling her what to do and what not to do, all at the same time.

The woman faced me. "I..." She stuttered, and then cleared her throat. "I promise." With that, the priest smiled and took a hold of my wrist and stuck the stamp with the small needles on the bottom, into my skin. Pain filled my entire arm and I tried not to cringe. He took Hanji's wrist and did the same thing to her. Even though it started to bleed, the punctures on our wrists were in the shape of a circle. I remember seeing the same thing on my parents.

The priest then announced, "By the power invested in me, in the name the Father, and in the name of the law, I now pronounce you both husband and wife." He begins to clap, and so does the crowd watching us. I watch the crowd stand row by row, clapping their hands as if a concert has ended.

I'm married. An idea that I've hated for so long finally became a reality. It's unfair. I look over at Hanji, and I noticed how sad she looked while she stared at the bleeding circle on her wrist. She must have been through much worse than I have.

She doesn't deserve this. Not one bit.