To Have and to Hate

To keep my family from going bankrupt, marry a man I hardly know.

If my partner had been someone else, it could have been easy.

My soon-to-be spouse rolled into the courthouse on our wedding day like a black cloud over Manhattan. Walt remained silent during our false pledge exchange in front of the court, not even smiling or making small talk.

His contempt for me was so evident that I thought we would just leave the ceremony and get back to our regularly scheduled programming. Then destiny said, "Hold my beer." I understand this.

I was in such dire need of assistance and had nowhere else to turn that I was forced to break a very important clause in our contract: I will only call Mr. Jennings II in an emergency. What's a little fine print between a husband and wife, though?

It appears that Walt is quite particular about legalese—I believe this to be his love language. Oh, and he wasn't acting fake while he was at the courthouse. What a jerk my so-called hubby is. He takes what he wants and doesn't care about anyone else, especially me, his blushing, legally bound wife!

Although I was aware that my life with Walt would not be a honeymoon, any marriage should nonetheless come with a few standard guarantees:

both to possess and to hold.

For better or worse.

both in health and in illness.

Nevertheless, after witnessing Walt's interpretation of the ideal married life, I say let's just go ahead and kill me now.