My dear, I am marrying not for the presence, but for the absence, not to seek, but to avoid.
After I couldn’t get my prize, I wished to marry someone that considered my their prize, and I am not sure if I am doing you good or harm.
Don’t you deserve someone that viewed you as his prize?
Perhaps this is all irrelevant to our legal commitment.
You finish your studies next year, correct? Then let that be the time.
Let there be apparent joy and many people, and let there be none more miserable and lonely than me.
You will be the prettiest girl in the whitest of dresses, the dream of a million men, but not mine.
Let us greet them with firm handshakes and wide smiles, and before long we will age and pass away.
Before long, it would be as if my prize and I have never existed. As if I have never dreamed, never sought, never cried, never waited, and never moved on.
But before all of that, before everything: let me spend another year in pointless hope.
Let me remain free from the legal binding that you are mine and I am yours. Let it not be signed in paper that some dreams can never come true.
Let me wait, and what is there to do besides waiting?