Do I?

Posted on: June 16, 2015


Hello! May I have everyone’s attention?

I’ll let you get back to guessing each other’s baby pictures and bobbing for nipples in a moment, but first, there’s something I’d like to say to the lady of the hour.

My dearest Amber Beasley. As Jerry Maguire said, “You complete me.”

For those of you who don’t know, that’s our favorite movie. We watched it on our first date, once she told me she hadn’t seen it and I insisted we go back to my place and watch it. I won’t tell you what else happened that night, but let’s just say it led us to where we are today; sorry Mom.

Amber, you are my Dorothy Boyd, and not just because you’re as beautiful as a young, pre-plastic-surgery Renee Zellweger. You embody what Jerry would say is the most important quality in a mate: “loyalty.” No matter what I say or do, you are always right behind me with your special kind of silent support.

Most girls would’ve dived right back into the dating pool the minute I told them my plans to quit my job and create the next Facebook, but you just nodded your head and said, “Go for it.” And just a month into our relationship, when I asked if I could move in with you to save a little money, you welcomed me with open arms and half your closet. Even though Brenda was NOT having it--no hard feelings, Brenda.

Things started off better than I could’ve imagined. You’d go to work, I’d spend the day taking online coding classes, and we’d meet back in bed, where we’d eat dinner and watch Hulu until we fell asleep. Then you started gaining a little weight.

Hold your gasps, folks. It wasn’t her waistline that tested our loyalty. It was the little surprise floating inside that ever-expanding belly.

I found out the Monday after season three of House of Cards hit Netflix. I know this, because I was trying to catch up on all the sleep I lost while binge watching every episode over the weekend--spoiler alert, Frank is a terrible President. The key word there is “trying.” My slumber was disrupted by the guttural grunting of Amber trying to squeeze into her skinny jeans. Understandably, I was a little angry, and I may have said something about her mooing like a cow--those details are a little blurry.

Whatever I said, it did NOT go over well. She turned on me like Siegfried and Roy’s tiger, forcing me to hide under the covers until the pummeling turned to sobbing and it was safe to fold back the comforter and put my arm around her. That’s when she told me I was going to be a father, and that’s when I knew our story was far from over.

It took Amber a little more convincing--to keep me and the baby--but having that argument made me realize my true life’s calling. That same day, I deactivated my Lynda.com account, kissed my SocialGoGo dreams goodbye, and started studying for the LSAT.

Amber, once again, your loyalty was put to the test, and once again, you aced it. You--and your parents, thank you Mr. and Mrs. B--helped me pay for all my books, all my prep classes, all my law school applications--which should be coming back before this little bun pops out of the oven--and I am more than ready to spend the rest of my life paying you back financially, emotionally and romantically--not you, Mr. and Mrs. B, at least not that last one.

Amber, you may not see it now, but I’ve had a glimpse at our future, and it is beautiful. I’m a partner at some reputable law firm, we have a gaggle of healthy children, and you’re sliding back into the same skinny jeans you wore on our first date with the greatest of ease.

With all the loyalty you’ve shown me in our less-than-year of dating, I have no doubt you’re going to be the greatest mom on the face of the planet. I can already picture you: joining the PTA, carpooling our little darlings and their friends to school and soccer practice--or dance, or whatever extracurricular activities they partake in, keeping them on a healthy diet, reading to them before they go to bed, and leaning on me whenever you’re in need of love and support.

In return, I vow to take on as many cases as I need in order to make sure you never have to step foot into an office again. I’ll enforce any rules or punishments you dole out. And, most importantly, I’ll make sure to be a strong, male role model our children can look up to.

WOOOO. Boy. Is anyone else having an allergy attack?

All tears aside, Amber, when I first discovered Tinder, I thought I would NEVER want to get married--I mean seriously, it’s the dating equivalent of stealing candy from a baby--but in the last seven-months, you’ve made a man out of me. A better man. A stronger man. A driven man. And after all we’ve been through: all the surprises, the fights, the financial hurdles, the hospital visits, etc; I am ready to step up to the plate and take charge, like a real man.

This union of ours may have started off on the wrong course, but I’m going to take the wheel and redirect this ship towards a lifetime of love and loyalty.

Amber, to repeat my favorite quote from my favorite--no--OUR favorite movie, “You complete me.” Will you let me complete you by: caring for your every whim and need, protecting you from any physical or emotional harm that may fall upon your beautiful face, “Showing you the money”--eventually, spending whatever time I have left outside of the courthouse with you and our kids, and last but not least, giving you my name?

This is the part where you say, “You had me at ‘Hello.’”

Wait. Amber! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?


Written by: Mark Killian
Photograph by: Matt Crump

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