I, I love you like a love song, baby
I, I love you like a love song, baby
I, I love you like a love song, baby
And I keep hittin' re-pe-pe-pe-pe-peat
Like a Love Song, Selena Gomez
So here’s the thing.
I don’t care about the ring. I care about who’s putting it on my finger.
And I don’t care about the wedding. I care about who’s standing at the end of the
aisle with me.
And I don’t care about a grand house. I care about having a home.
Everyone has different preferences. Many girls have an idea of what they
want. A man who can afford a large
diamond. A man who can afford a large
house. A wedding comparable to Kim
Kardashian’s.
Well, all of that is nice. It just isn’t me.
What I want is someone who loves me when the money is
gone. What I want is someone whose love grows
deeper even still after our wedding day.
What I want is someone who, when we’re too old and grey to maintain the
house, loves me and the life we lived together.
It’s not the money the man makes. It’s not the mansion he can buy. It’s not the glamour of the wedding.
The man I love will be the man whose heart connects with
mine beyond the worldly wants.
This ring? My grandmother wore it every day of her life. No
diamonds. But an inscription that lives
on even after both hearts have passed on.
Love.
Take the ring.
Take the money. Take the house.
Give me true love, a heart for God, and I’ll never ask for more.
