For those of you who had no idea, we are getting married. There you go, that’s about as public a post as it would get I guess.
He’s a good man, and I am a lucky girl. Hence the marriage. Did you know nice guys make excellent lovers? haaah. It’s true. When I was 18 all I wanted was a bad guy. Found the scum of the earth didn’t I? Oh well. All that’s behind me now. *touch wood*
Anyway, while weddings are happy occassions, ( Let’s talk about why we need to get married in another post maybe , I have a few theories on my own ) getting married and going away to build your own life is by no means any less scary than it sounds.
Yes it’s exciting. We are excited about making our own home, choosing furniture and color and arguing about functionality vs outer appeal ( Another post, another time ) and what we’d do in our free time, and about making our own traditions. I am personally really excited about the back yard and having tea in the garden.
But it’s a difficult choice. To grow up. The very fiber of my being fights against it. It’s that time in my life when I am seeing everyone growing up and my friends getting married one by one , leaving their families to build their own, some leaving the country altogether. I see their parents, ( and mine ) being left at home to tend to their own lives, the children visiting whenever they can. Parents are retiring. Younger siblings are graduating. Some of the married ones are getting pregnant in the mean time. It’s as if I can almost see ourselves getting old and our skin wrinkling. *shudder*.
Thinking about this process utterly saddens me.
I wanna stay young forever. I wanna be fabulous at all times. And more importantly, I don’t want any regrets. The kind of regret that will keep me up at night wondering why I never got any more time with my family than I did. My parents shouldn’t have to feel lonely when I am away. My siblings shouldn’t have to feel as if they have to struggle to get my attention. And my friend’s babies? Why mustn’t they get to know someone as fabulous as me?
I want it all. The guy, the marriage ( less so the wedding for me personally ) , and enough time for the people I love. Is that too much to ask for? Will I get stuck in my own world, working and trying desperately to make time for them and my self? I want to invest time in the relationship , the garden, the house. The walls need art. The floor needs a hand woven rug. the couch needs throw pillows. Everyone around you needs a bit of your love and your time.
Not going to get it all , sitting here at work, wasting away my hours in exchange of a pay cheque. Am I now.
Here’s to ‘it all’. May we have not more, not less, but enough love and time.