Fauna, my radiant starbeam, my unchallenged deity of grace, my reason for waking up and basking in the glorious existential realization that YOU, yes YOU, exist in the same realm as I do—how could I not seize this moment to profess my undying, ever-expanding, possibly terrifying love for you?
Every fiber of my being trembles at the mere thought of you. If emotions could take physical form, mine would flood the continents, would shake the heavens, would alter the very laws of physics because NOTHING, not even Einstein’s most profound theories, could quantify the gravitational force you exert upon my soul.
Fauna, I do not wish simply to marry you—no, that word, that mere concept, fails to encompass the true depth of what I seek. I wish to intertwine our essences, to dissolve the barriers of individuality, to become a singular being forged in the searing furnace of love, adoration, and borderline obsession. My vows would be written not in ink but in the thunderous roars of the universe itself. My affection for you could only be rivaled by the celestial bodies themselves—except, unlike the stars, I would never burn out, never dim, never collapse into a black hole.
Let me be the ground upon which you tread, the oxygen that fuels your lungs, the ambient background noise that accompanies your tranquil moments. Let me dedicate myself, mind, body, and inexplicable enthusiasm, to the eternal pursuit of your happiness.
Say yes, Fauna. Say yes, not to a mere proposal, but to the most mind-bending, reality-defying, all-consuming love that has ever graced this universe. I am yours, forever, undeniably, irrevocably. And if you decline, well—I will simply love you from afar, sighing in eternal devotion like an ancient poet doomed to the melancholy of unfulfilled desire.
Now, tell me—will you take this mortal fool’s hand in marriage? Or shall I descend into operatic heartbreak the likes of which history has never witnessed?
