“how the hell am I supposed to be ok with seeing this person EVERY SINGLE MOMENT of my evenings – which I have come to love as either quiet and calm while curled on my favourite spot on my couch OR being in track suits, duster in hand with Maroon 5’s Misery track blasting through my head phones while cleaning and dancing around in moves that my mirror and eyes have agreed are the best ever. And now I would just have this person in my space and face the whole time and I would have no option of either him or me getting up, kissing them goodnight and going home – to my place”
I think without realizing it, I built a really good comfortable relationship with being single and having my own space that an invasion to that almost seems unbearable. I love the idea of doing whatever whenever and not having to clear it with the other person first. Oh the horror of having to share the bed I have loved rolling in all night long and the thought of HAVING to make supper even if I don’t feel like supper. Oh man the pains of being a women confused and conformed by a modern society.
The girls all took turns trying to convince me that this picture I was painting should not be as bleak as I have made it.
“It’s not that bad!” my have-been-there-done-it-before friend speaks out. “When you love someone enough to marry them, you will love spending most of your space with them. If your relationship is healthy, you should never really get tired of being around them...”
“what...”, I answered while the look of horror gets worse followed by confusion and lack of understanding.
“well, you can take moments to do your own thing by yourself every once in a while,” another friend adds, “but it won’t be as bad as what you are saying”
I take a a HUGE gulp of the drink I was having and start to wonder if this is a sign of love-lacking on my part since clearly this “little technicality” seems to be too huge for ME to ignore.
Two days later and I still ponder on that conversation. Am I the only one who has a sort of problem with this? As much as I love my guy and I do get that the logical goal being chased here is marriage, I can’t help but worry a bit about the major changes that would have to take place with those 3 words (“yes I do”). I worry about the fact that I SHOULD be looking forward to all of this and it worries me a whole lot more when I think of the disapproving looks I get when I do mention these fears to some people.
Oh the morning rushes after being subjected to being seen at my grumpiest and with my pillow creased cheeks and blind feeling around while I try making it to the bathroom while making sure to open my eyes not much more then what is truly needed to get me there.
“its not that I don’t like my guy or anything”, I try to defend, “I just am not so thrilled at the prospect of the space invasion I imagine happening at that time”.
Then, while still kinda lost in thought about this dilemma of mine, I look up at him while he makes me a cup of coffee. He looks back at me, smiles and warms up the milk just for me. When all that was done, he gets closer, lets me lie on his chest and runs his hand across my back and kisses my forehead.
“so this is what you are freaking out about?”, the little voice in my head says and I smile realising the point and knowing that at that moment, there is nowhere else I would rather be then right here with him, in my space _ FOREVER!
