What the fuck are you doing with your life?
Go home, ask her to marry you, move into a flat into the city centre together. Holiday in Asia, visit friends in northern cities on occasional weekends. Go to your mum and dads once in a while for Sunday lunch, and go to the pub with my lot. Get a cat, a car and all the sports TV channels we can afford. Discuss at great length Titus Brambles failings and the merits of Jay De Merit, celebrate the graduations of our university friends, go to a Christening at a church out in the countryside.
Have a kid, have two kids. Move into a nice house in the suburbs, get a promotion, a company car, a nursery for our beautiful children and all the toys they could want strewn across our manicured garden (football goal included). Get a job, a better job and support us while you stay at home for a while with the kids. Holiday in the States, visit my friends from Japan and your friends from all over the place.
Watch proudly as the kids grow up to be just as wonderful and beautiful as you, and see them develop into fantastic human beings, despite inheriting some of my flaws. Grow old together and enjoy long and successful careers in the football industry, be respected for what we bring to our roles and for our undying love for each other. Retire. Move to a far flung corner of the world, leaving the kids as they finish their studies at university. Reminisce about the lives we’ve enjoyed together, hold hands and walk through a park on a misty Sunday morning.
I’m ready to give everything to you, and I know you’ll never disappoint me. I know I would die happy having spent fifty years at your side. I’m yours, completely.
