Lucky Man

When I was in secondary school, a couple of guys I knew had a band, and since they knew of my interest in writing, they asked me to come up with some lyrics for them. One of my efforts (which, reading again all these years later, still surprises me with its relative maturity) was a little thing called Lucky Man. It contained a bridge which ran as follows:

I know her name
She knows my game;
I hold her hand,
She holds my fate.
This is the best of both worlds
Lying here with me now.

Ah, yes, young love – a glorious thing, don’t you agree?

But in considering the situation now, it occurs to me how very close to the mark I may have, however unwittingly, come. Because, later this year, I’m getting married (hold the congratulations, just send money).

Now this is significant because, until I met my Dearly Beloved, Yours Truly was definitely not the “marrying type”. Sure, I’ve been in long-term relationships, but I never conceived of any of them leading to marriage. Not because I didn’t love the other person involved, or didn’t want the relationship to survive (my view is that breaking up is far too painful to ever want that), just that I could never see myself as married.

Because, you know, the divorce rate and romanticism aside, marriage has a sound of permanency, doesn’t it? It’s like saying, “okay bub, time to put your money where your mouth is”. And you really have to think about the prospect of doing so, don’t you? Cause this aint just some crappy fingers-crossed promise no-one expects you to keep: it’s the real deal.

Well, I can only say that my Dearly Beloved is the “real deal”. On my engagement ring is engraved the message: Well to him who knows whom he can trust. Which pretty much says it all.

I think on my marriage ring I’ll have engraved: love conquers all.

Talk to you soon,

BB