My current thoughts on marriage

It’s very American to want to get married, I discovered.

Being in Australia the past few years I’ve come to realize the pressure here isn’t so high. The culture is less religious and the people are more relaxed. Many people here have babies before weddings and no one cares about the order. No one frets or fusses. They just live.

If they get married eventually, cool, but it’s not a big deal and I love that about Australia.

Because, for me, I don’t believe marriage serves a purpose. I find the idea very archaic and misogynistic. I don’t want to change my name or hope upon all hopes that he proposes just right. Or that he asks my dad for permission? Ew. Or that my dad walks me down the aisle? Double Ew.

All I see when I hear the word “marriage” is a trap. One big fat trap.

And why do we need to bring our relationship to the next level? Why do we think marriage is more serious than dating? Who decided this? Can’t we just move in together and be happily ever after? Can’t we just get a dog and call it good? Who needs a ring and a promise of forever? That’s fairytale shit.

I don’t need forever. I just need right now. Do you choose to love me today? Cool. That’s all I need. I just need today’s love. I don’t need tomorrow’s love. I don’t need reassurance that you’ll always be there because I’m not naive to think that we can promise always.

There is no always.

There is just now.

Right now I choose you.

And that’s all we can do.

Time fades

It’s wild how I thought I wanted to marry you

And now I barely remember you.

Your partner’s thoughts

I’m having a hard time watching you relax.

Never woke up in my dreams

I’ve been up since 6am.

And it’s Saturday.

Why, you might ask?

No reason.

Just my body clock telling me to pee.

Though, I have to say, I love this time of day.

Cuddling with him.

Being his big spoon.

Looking out the window

Watching the wind flirt with the tree.

It’s been magical

This morning.

And it’s not just this morning

It’s every Saturday morning.

We sit here

Sip our coffee together

And I dream.

I dream about my past dreams.

How I always wanted this

A man

A coffee

And a book

Wrapped into one.

But honestly, it doesn’t feel real!

How did I get here?

I ask myself.

Do I even deserve this?

My man is literally cooking me breakfast right now.

Truly, I don’t deserve all of this?!

It is too beautiful.

Too loving.

Too perfect.

And I know people say perfect doesn’t exist.

But those people never woke up in my dreams.

Sometimes

I’m so in love with my partner that it brings tears to my eyes.

The level of support I am gifted by him is unreal.

And his ability to create the most well designed spotify playlist is honestly beyond comprehension.

3 years going on 30.

No question.

Thoughts on a Tuesday

You know sometimes I think about myself and ask,

Am I dateable?

And I think about the app days
And how people would ask me what do you do for fun?

And now I would say,
I lay in bed at 645 and drink camomile tea.

Haha and there’s no shame in that. Like my life isn’t something to be pitched. I remember I use to pitch this story like I was something exciting when I never really was. Now being honest, I’m thinking, dude I like routine. I like sleep. And
I’m a grandma inside a 27yr old body.

And I’m completely cool with that.

Road trip thoughts

The thing I like the most about being in a “long term” relationship. Haha “long term”. It has been 2.5 years. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it’s all I got so fuck off. Anyways, the thing I like the most about it is the reliability. I have tested this through and through and I know without a doubt that this relationship is reliable.

We are two people who can sit in a car for five hours and say nothing to each other.

We are completely content with the silence.

We don’t rely on each other for entertainment. We just float in our own thoughts and once in a while touch each other’s knee for a love check-in.

It is pretty bad ass.

It’s not awkward or weird.

It’s still.

And as introverts, we thrive in the stillness.

And to be able to rely on the stillness with him is probably the best gift he could give me.

Pen pals

He has a way with me.
The raise of his eyebrow.
The slant of his smile.
Funny how random
It all began.
Just one pen pal
To another.
He sent me a joke
And I responded.
Back and forth
Back and forth.
Until we reached for more.
But still we kept our
Distance.
I didn’t know his name
Or what he looked like.
It was all just a game.
For a month straight
We played this game.
Waiting everyday
For that one email
From each other.
Both scared
That if we escalated the stakes
The other would leave.
You see, the fun
Was in the mystery.
We could say anything
To each other
Because we truly believed
It was all make believe.
But then he asked to see me.
“Do you want to skype?”,
He asked.
And I was petrified.
I wanted him to stay
Alive
Only in my dreams.
I didn’t want the game to end.
Yet, my curiosity said yes.
And that night
I finally saw what he looked like.
And you could say,
I was more than surprised.
Because there in front of me
Was a remarkably above average
Australian man
With a slanted smile
And a sparkle in his eye.

And you best believe
I was goddamn awkward
On that video call.

It was like meeting
My crush for the first time
And him telling me
He liked me too.

But he handled it
Like a gentleman.
As he always tends to do.

And now
Two years later,
I sit here with him.
As if how we met
Never happened.

Because it feels like
I’ve always known him.
And
I like to believe
That’s true.

Peter Pan

I think about him.
I think about him when I think I shouldn’t.
I think pieces of my soul was drawn to him.
Something I can’t explain, but only can experience.
It was attraction at its peak,
Cosmic,brutal attraction.
I was in love
Or so I thought.
I changed my whole being for him.
I molded myself into what I believed he wanted to hear,
Because I was afraid he wouldn’t like me other wise.
So I pretended.
And have I ever told you how good I was at pretending?
Let’s just say, I was well practiced.
By the end I had him wrapped around my finger,
But it wasn’t real love.
He abused me in the dark
And I continued to chisel and mold myself thinking this time I got it.
And I did this because that’s what my dad always wanted.
Like I said,  well practiced.
So I believed all guys wanted it,
The shape shifting,
The white lies,
The fake confidence,
The controlling charisma,
Everything was a lie.
I am not her.
Instead,
I am the girl who cries when she reads the news.
I am the girl who gets anxious in big crowds.
I am the girl who wants to be liked so she pretends to be an extrovert.
I am the girl who wants to feel safe in your arms.
And lastly I am the girl who is okay without a plan.
But who are you?
You are the boy who hates himself so much you pretend to be a narcissist to hide it.
You are the boy who sees everything in darkness.
You are the boy who pretends he doesn’t need friends when really you are desperately lonely.
So of course we were drawn to each other.
We sought our truth in each other
Because we thought the other could fix us.
And we had fun along the way,
Childish fun.
But we had to grow up eventually didn’t we, Peter Pan?

It’s a tragedy, I know.

I believe the majority of my tragedy has been self-inflicted. The only real hardships I have faced are the death of family and loved lost. I have not experienced true tragedy. I have only experienced things every girl experiences: not being enough and not being lovable. However, I created my own reality and chose the people I loved and unfortunately, they mirrored my self hate. I didn’t know how to love me so I reached out to seemingly confident men who I believed could.

And I learned.

I learned that love is not built in whispers, but forged in movement. And their movement did not match mine, but only time could show me that. No one could tell me who’s love I needed. I was stubborn and bold in my assumptions of love. There were signs, but I refused to see them because that meant seeing myself in them. And I couldn’t allow myself to see me in their flaws because that meant I wasn’t perfect. And who wants to admit that they had a role to play in the destruction of their life? So I pointed and staked all blame on them! They were the problem. They were the thorn in my side. All I wanted was to love them. Why did they have to be so cruel? But what if their cruelty was my design? What if their pain was what I sought because it was easier than healing my own?

It’s tragic, I know. But not unique.

Unfortunately, this story has been told a thousand times and a thousand times we learn only one thing, love yourself. Love who you are before braving any further because life cannot be lived without your love.