I've always been a social butterfly, happiest in cheerful crowds. Probably because that way no-one gets too close to you. But ever since The Man came along... I've found a whole new scene. I love my friends and have so much fun with them but this is...was different somehow. He was...is my favourite person in the whole world. He is my desert island disc. We're very different, chalk and cheese doesn't even begin to describe it. But we... balanced each other somehow. His seriousness needed my silliness. My frilliness benefited from his sensibility. We came from very similar backgrounds. We were a great match. Greater than the Champions League final in Moscow. Well, almost.
There's nowhere I wouldn't follow him; nothing I wouldn't do for him. OK, that's not entirely true. I wouldn't have a threesome. And I'd think twice before donating him my liver as that's the one body part that I have working overtime already as it is.
But the thing is... escpecially after all this waiting... I'd need a commitment. And to me that means marriage. I need some certainty; I need to be able to trust his feelings and intentions. I want to build a future knowing that we're both determined to stand in each corners, no matter what punches life throws our way.
He has another move in the horizon. He had me sign all these relocation documents for his company as we were finally supposed to headed for our happily ever after... after I had for 6,5 years been telling him how I don't believe in cohabiting, that I want the real deal. And then he says he never had any intention of marrying me. Which one's the idiot in this equation? Did he seriously think I'd just leave everything for him and never notice that we never got married?! That once more it was all about him and what he wants???
He says he doesn't believe in marriage as it's just a promise people don't keep; a vow that doesn't stop the other from leaving. But it isn't so to me. I do believe in it.I believe it's not just something that's doable- I believe it's something worth cherishing and pursuing. And I really think I'd make a good wife.
I'm conservative in many ways. Margaret Thatcher is my ultimate style icon ( C'mon! Hair that big- what a style statement. Both in Queens and at the Queen's reception.) But when you think about it... maybe believing in a life-long commitment isn't about sticking to outdated traditions. Perhaps it's just the opposite; an act of rebellion: sticking one's finger at today's world where everything's supposed to be easily available and readily disposable. I've always been like that. I don't want just a handbag- I want a Hermés one that'll last forever. I don't want a watch- I want a Cartier Tank that will keep me in time for the rest of my life.
He says it's just a meaningless piece of paper. But let's face it- if it were just that, he wouldn't have a problem signing one. To me that promise one takes in front of God and one's closest and dearest people is holy. I've never made that promise to anyone and only intend to do it once. I want to say those words out loud; I want to give myself - all of me- to that special someone.
I wasn't ever even going to get the wedding of my dreams! There was going to be no chuppa, no ketuba, no breaking the glass (until my football friends reached the bar, anyway), no hora (apart from the whoras those very football friends would probably pick up at the bar) . But I saw past that. What I was really after was the marriage. I couldn't wait for it. The intimacy it brings, the sense of belonging to each other...I viewed as the beginning of life's greatest adventure.
My expectations though are a lot more realistic than what I ever thought someone like me to be capable of (let's face it, in my last job I actually tried to launch tiara Thursdays. You know, to balance the casual Fridays!). I know there will be good days, weeks, months and years. And I know there will be the bad ones, during which the commitment is truly tested. I never want to stop making an effort. I want to do everything I can to keep the spark and passion alive. I intend to wake up everyday determined to win the other person over again so that when, at the end of the day, he goes to sleep next to me, he can be grateful that of all the women he chose me to share his life with.
What is so awful about that? Which parts of that are so terrifying that he'd rather be alone than with me? Am I a relic after all...?
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