After attending my sister’s wedding, I feel weird. I have come back from the marriage hall and tried to go back to my routine, whatever that was. But something is not right, it doesn’t feel the same. Somewhere in the back of my mind there is this awareness that my fate will be similar. And like a prisoner waiting for his death sentence, I have started waiting for my marriage. At just twenty years this seems a ridiculous thing. I should enjoy my life, experience new things, make friends, make mistakes.. basically, act like I am in my prime. Easier said than done.
If I go out and eat pizza on a whim, I find myself wondering whether my in-laws would like me eating outside. When I come home late from work, tired as hell and my mother serves me hot dinner, I ask myself if anyone would care for me in the same way once I become a wife. I even think about things like who will wash the clothes and who will clean the dishes.
I am of an uncomfortable age where I completely understand things when they are not yet valid for me. I understand marriage, having kids, sex, the responsibility, the adjustments and all those things. I might not have to experience them yet, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking about it. Its not like I am paranoid or anything. Nor I am eagerly waiting for it. I know my life as I know it will take huge turn somewhere down the line. Its like you know an accident is going to happen but you cannot do anything to stop it.
Maybe here I am wrong. Its not accident waiting to happen. Nor is it like a prisoner waiting for his death sentence. I do gather that marriage doesn’t have to be such a grotesque thing. It can be a beautiful journey. It can be moonlight walks, long drives, and unconditional support. What I mean to say is, it is the uncertainty that worries me. That I will marry is certain. That I will have kids is certain. That I’ll spend the rest of my life with someone is certain. What is not certain is that how much I’ll have to bend, adjust, and compromise in the process. The last twenty years I’ve been trying to create my own identity, find my own morals and be an independent self. What if when I marry all that becomes void? Null. Nada. Emptiness.
I see my parents and they have managed to retain their separate identities in spite of marriage. That should give me some relief. But my point still remains true- there I no certainty! No certainty that I would be happy, no certainty that I would be ME!
I can think about all this till my hair becomes white. Or I can wait and see what happens. Or I can write about it, and hope that makes me feel a bit better. Waiting is hard, thinking is exhausting. Writing is good. So here I am, writing about my insecurities, hoping that some kind soul will empathize and give me a magic potion that will make me feel better. Hahaha, one can dream
Anyways, nice talking to you invisible amigos. Take care