I have been astoundingly vocal about the fact I won’t get married, if you haven’t noticed. Maybe not a won’t but a strong prefer not to marry. Here’s the thing, eventually, probably, I might get married.
I have PTSD. I’m not going to sugar coat it’s not easy and, in a lot of ways, puts a few limitations on my life. I have a very difficult time living alone. In actuality, I haven’t lived alone, ever. I lived with my family, then the dorms, then I moved in with my ex, then with my best friend’s family. In total, I’ve lived alone for six months, but even then there were always people around. People help keep the terrors away. A roommate could solve this, except I have difficulty living with anyone I don’t trust explicitly. I could always live with my best friend, but one day, hopefully, she will find someone to spend her life with. If she doesn’t, I still don’t want to be a burden on her.
The emotional stability of having someone waiting for me at home is comforting. They’re not with me because they have to be; they’re with me because they want to be. That’s a big deal in my book. Someone who loves me helps create a safe home situation; something I desperately need. Establishing a day-in, day-out relationship with someone creates a stability. Having as few surprises as possible keeps me calm and collected; it keeps my head on straight.
I never wanted to get married because, well, a whole bunch of reasons. I never wanted a wedding, a marriage, or babies. One reason being: I didn’t want to be my parents. I didn’t, still don’t, want to be the parent my mother is. I don’t want to have the marriage my parents have.
God dammit I want the fairytale. I want to be swept off my feet in love and ride off into the sunset. It might not be realistic, but why not shoot for another galaxy since my hopes are already so low because, after my life, it is hard to imagine I deserve a happy ending, when everything points in the opposite direction. So, I never dreamt or hoped or even looked for a happy ending. I decided I’d never have any of those things because it’s easier not to want then be disappointed. There are two problems. 1) I fell in love. When you love someone so deeply, it is hard not to want to love like that forever. 2) Last fall, something happened that made me want a baby so desperately it forever changed who I am to this day. I won’t be devastated if I don’t have children, but my life won’t be ruined if I do. (I know, I make a convincing case to be a mother.)
I don’t know if I will ever get married. For practical reasons, it would be a smart thing to do. For romantic reasons, I secretly want the man I can’t live without. If it happens, believe me, it will be the kind of love books are written about. If it doesn’t, well, I found adventures on my own.