'Why do you want to get married?', he quizzed me. A thundery silence stole our fairly romantic night as we sat in his car in front of my house. The question tore deep into my soul like a sharp sword would an ice cube. For a moment, I actually didn't know why I wanted to get married. Or rather, I knew, but it was too embarrassing a reason to get married. I mean, if someone else came up with that answer, I'd think she was sick. But as I burrowed into my soul, I knew I had the very same answer. I had never thought about it until then. 'What's the purpose of marriage?', he kept questioning, 'You know they say, if the purpose of a thing is not known...' 'Abuse is inevitable', I said brusquely. He should have known I wasn't comfortable with those questions. He was probing my motives and I felt like I was being stripped naked. How could I tell him that I want to get married because it is what the society expects of me? I co