All the time, we get by
Sunday, December 26, 2010 at 12:19AM Merry Thing. I forgot about all about you, but now I am back with more information about bagels and concerns re.: my bank account.
SO HERE’S A THING
B proposed to his girlfriend. We watched. He got down on one knee and almost didn’t make eye contact with her, but then he did, and he asked her, except he didn’t have a ring because he was still getting it fitted and they couldn’t have it ready in time, so he only had a little box to give her.
He put a lot of things in that box.
I’ve always found the concept of a public marriage proposal, that is, any proposal that involves spectators, to be brave but cringeworthy, and I’ve always hoped that I’d never witness one. Not especially because I feel like I wouldn’t belong, because it’s the proposer’s choice as to who should be around at the time, and if he1 thinks a bunch of us should witness it, then so be it, but no, really, it’s more because what if she2 says no? What if the proposal comes as a complete sucker punch because they haven’t ever, for whatever reason, talked about their white picket dreams, and all she can do is smile kind of weakly and go, “Haha,” and then, “Um, what?” And in this case, if they were alone, they could just have a nice heart-to-heart, but if there are people around, are there rules? Because there is expectation. Terrible, terrible expectation.
So when he went down on one knee, all of us said, “Ohhh!” And then fell silent when he produced the box. Looked up into J’s face. Said, “Will you marry me?” That single second, between his question and her answer, lasted so, so long.
And then, as the milliseconds stretched, I had a different sinking feeling, a more personal, decidedly more selfish feeling:
I thought, it’s finally happening.
Everyone is getting married to everyone else.
I will have to go to my friends’ weddings, and I will feel like an utter faker.
What if there ends up being an odd number of marriable people? And that I am the odd man out?
Which is completely insane. Like a fear of invisible cars.3
Why do people marry, anyway?
Who even gets married? Twelve year olds?!
All this and more. I can’t comprehend marriage. I think this makes me an idiot, but I have an excuse: I’m too young.4 Or maybe just too stupid. Am I completely insane for thinking that you shouldn’t get married while you’re an undergrad? Because we’re all undergrads. We’re almost graduated, but we’re students, at least for now. I’m still not sure that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing right now. Marriage seems like it should be way foreign for people our age—even if I’d been in a relationship since high school, keeping it alive through all those collegiate relationship hurdles, proving my love, etc. etc. etc., right now, I don’t think even going through that could convince me of my emotional maturity and/or my ability to make any commitment beyond lunch for next week, and that is to say nothing of my economic situation.5 So I guess I won’t be getting married until I “get” it, except maybe you need to be married before you “get” it? Or in a meaningful relationship? I don’t know. Sounds vicious either way. Perhaps I will grow up to be a spinster. Or a crazy cat lady. Only, you know, the male equivalents.
ANYWAY
She said yes. Of course she said yes! It was very sweet. She jumped into his arms. They could not stop giggling at each other. They’ll have the ring by New Year’s.
Totally unnecessary for me to say this, I think, but any gender can propose to any other gender, and I am not just being all “traditional” and “reactionary” when I use these pronouns, rather, it’s just for convenience. Yes! Kitty Lumpkins is politically correct! Tell your friends. ↩
See: footnote 1. ↩
The future will arrive with a broken clavicle. ↩
Although everyone else my age isn’t! ↩
Could I be any more pragmatic and wet-towelish? I doubt it! ↩
Reader Comments (6)
Invisible cars aren't real?
I can only hope.
I can only suspect your cynicism and perhaps your procrastination at a serious long term relationship is less to do with cynicism and procrastination but more about a fear of commitment. You can't imagine people marrying at you age - at our age - because you keep thinking that there's more, that there's better. There's always something round the corner to make you get up and go, or maybe you wish there was. I have a friend married for a year now, happily married, and it still baffles me. She's happy, I guess, and she will be but there's a part of me that hopes she isn't just for vindication. But still, isn't happiness, however deluded, ignorant, or just wrong, isn't it what we want?
What I'm trying to say is; think of yourself in ten years - honestly - do you see yourself proposing, or even married? I don't, god no, but maybe that's alright. Maybe it's good to be able to drop everything and run. To have no ties, no anchor, no hold-backs.
But, then again, maybe it's not.
I think you're right, but part of me feels like there's some other factors at play, here, which I have spent the last week unsuccessfully trying to articulate—something about broken chair legs, greasy appliances, tarnish beyond the help of steel wool.
Also, here is where I am now.
Oh hey I'd been wondering.