As a 26-year-old woman, it is programed somewhere in my double-X chromosomes that I am supposed to think about things like marriage and weddings and The One. (That’s a scientific fact. Wikipedia it. If you don’t find it in there, let me know, wait 10 minutes and then hit refresh.) It’s just been difficult because, lately, I’ve just been thinking about those things all the time. I don’t know if it’s Tiff’s wedding or Heidi and Spencer or what. But at this stage of life, it suddenly seems that I have a massive decision to make and that in itself is what leaves me gasping for air in the middle of the night. It’s true. A couple years ago, I would keep a mental journal of all my wedding fantasies (think red carpets and spotlights), but I can’t any longer due to a rare nervous twitch.
I’ve expressed my anxieties to my boyfriend, declaring at random moments of the day, “I’M NOT READY TO GET MARRIED!” Unfazed, he always gives me the same response: “Nobody’s asking you.”
I often believe that such psycho-girl episodes are brought on by the fact that everyone seems to have advice on “how it should be.” You know, like that whole thing about when you know, you just know. A recently-married pal explained it like this: Finding The One is like having an orgasm. If you don’t know for sure if you’ve had one, then, chances are, you haven’t. Strangely, I understood.
A less-explicit friend described her own test for how she’ll know. She said when she was young, she used to walk past this lady on the street who sold pencils for a living. It was such a simple, thankless life. She swore to herself that her future husband would be someone she could be happy selling pencils with. Being with him is all she would ever need. Sweet, huh?
Another friend put it differently. Recently married, she admitted that she spent nearly her entire engagement period coming to terms with her new permanently-attached life. There was no orgasmic epiphany. However unromantic this sounds, I think she’s smart. After five years of dating the guy, she realized that throughout her marriage, there will be days when she’ll wake up next to him and be sick of seeing his face. But she’ll still love him. And he’ll love her. Because they promised they would. And that to me, for now, is an incomprehensible, yet beautiful thing.
I don’t know where my life is taking me, but I guess that’s OK. I do know that I am loved every day. I know that I love every day. And for now, no matter what people may tell me, that is enough.
Though I still dream of time warps.