“I think I’ve decided,” I declared.
“Decided what?” she asked in return.
“That I truly love you and when we’re old, you and I are
going to get married.”
“Really?” she questioned.
“Yup.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“I know your name, age, family, and even your favorite color
and flavor.”
“Okay, but do you really know who I am?”
“Well…”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you do either.”
“Exactly.”
...
“So, until you really know me, you can’t really love me, and
you can’t actually marry me.”
“So I can’t just love you now?”
“Do you know me yet?”
“No…”
“Then there’s your answer.”
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