Sometimes when John (my partner) and I discuss our future together—the places we’ll go, the things we’ll do— the subject of marriage will reflexively arise. I say reflexively, because more often than not, unless you’re one of those, “we don’t need a piece of paper to define our relationship,” type couples, the relationship is most likely either moving toward a marital union or its eventual closing stages. So it stands to reason that if you’re planning that fabulous Alaskan cruise, you just might tag it with words like glacier, whale, and honeymoon.
Since our relationship is fairly new (six months from our initial Internet dating site messages) and we’ve only been living together for three of those months, John feels very strongly about waiting. He doesn’t want to jump into anything. He wants to wait until a year has passed.
“We don’t know everything about each other yet; there are things we may find out, and not like. You might realize you can‘t stand me someday.”
Well, after waking up with him for the last ninety days, and hearing him fart, burp and snore (loudly) and still having the desire to stay with him forever; I have to wonder, is he really worried about me finding out something I don’t like about him? Or is the truth simply that he is waiting for the other shoe to drop where I am concerned? Is he expecting my mask will come off any day now and reveal the hideous witch I really am?
I doubt John has some (other) disgusting habit that I have yet to witness; like a secret booger collection in his desk drawer, that would shock me so much, I’d run screaming with my hair on fire. I doubt he’s secretly violent or a raging alcoholic. He doesn’t have a ton of money so I know he hasn’t robbed any banks or casinos. There are no fresh dirt mounds in the backyard to signal buried body parts either.
It has to be that John is taking his time with wedding plans because he is afraid to marry me—not because he’s fearful that I will come to not like something about him.
I know he’s not one of those noncommittal men. He’s been married before. He’s stated that he, (disclaimer ahead, at this time, with the knowledge he currently has of my persona) would like to get married.
He has even booked what could turn out to be our honeymoon cruise, but refuses to label it as such.
He’s willing (disclaimer ahead, at this time, with the knowledge he currently has of my persona) to get married. He’s just not willing to discuss it in detail (i.e.: ring, venue, invitations, etc.) until we’ve been shacked up for a year.
Am I being unfair in thinking that his putting a time restriction on wedding chat is unreasonable?
Am I wrong for wanting the man that I agreed to quit my job and leave the security of my family for to know that I’m the one?
Am I expecting too much from the man that I moved across the state for? Quit smoking for? Adopted a puppy with?
Should I be offended that he’s worried I’ll turn into a sexless, nagging, demanding psycho-bitch as soon as he says, “I do?”
Would it be immature of me to feel angry because he’s afraid that one day he’ll find himself caught in my black widow web?
I know there’s no right measurement to the length of time a couple should be a couple before deciding to marry. That’s something that can only be answered on a case-by-case basis.
But I wonder sometimes, if he had asked me, “Will you change your entire life to come live with me until I decide whether or not I want to spend the rest of my life with you?”
Would I have? Would I be here at this very moment?
I don’t know but the more I think about it, the more I feel like some postwar minefield that John feels needs a good sweeping before he’ll walk across me.