4.5 years ago, at the age of 20, in a beautiful European city, I started my first and only relationship. Six months later we started living together, which was very logical for two students (I was on my bachelor’s degree, he was finishing his master’s degree).
Two years later, I brought up the issue of getting married, to which he replied, “you’re not religious, besides, why put the state on notice about who’s sleeping with whom?” That upset me, but I accepted that fact. Or so it seemed to me, because from pandemic and lockdown we went straight to a psychologist. The psychologist turned out to be a middle-aged European man who read off a list of my partner’s exploits (bringing coffee, cooking, taking me out) and finally, flashing his glasses, asked: “don’t you see it all?” I was ashamed, and it kept our flimsy boat going for another year and a half.
During that time I thought for a long time about what marriage is and whether we modern girls need it. Is it a silk thread or an iron chain around your neck? Maybe it’s even better when you are legally and ideologically free? I still don’t have a clear answer.
We are both very inert workaholics and people of habit, so we’ve had this period in our work. Also, I’ve developed a very natural hobby of my nature – retiring to an empty room to spend hours fantasizing about anime or book characters, reading fanfics about them, and listening to music. I would love to experience this palette of emotions in 3D as well, but I honestly don’t know if that kind of love exists, or if Hollywood has sold it to us.
Nothing seemed to bode ill today, except the fact that the vacations had cleared up my busy weekdays a bit, and I sat down on the couch next to him. Usually with us, if one is in the living room, the other is in the room. It doesn’t sound like much, but it sounds like the realities of almost every established couple I know. And the conversation began. The partner said he wasn’t ready or sure two years ago, and that he, unlike me, was too pragmatic (always with two feet on the ground and me in the clouds). Offered to go sign at least tomorrow, blamed himself and said he sees his whole life with me. And I feel that I was declared checkmate. If we stay “roommates”, this inner worm, no matter what, will come out again, and if we sign, it feels wrong.
I remember Kate Middleton at one time was called waity Katie (as she was waiting for a proposal from the prince), so I do not want to be her. Oh, and my prize is far from being a prince of Great Britain.
It’s like an umbilical cord has grown between us. Our daily life is harmonious, we live peacefully and well and really care about each other and wish the other all the best. He’s a good man, and I don’t want to hurt him (and myself).
I understand that it will hurt more later, but change is so scary. Also, I’m a big girl and can support myself decently, but my standard of living will still go down. I’ll go for it if I know there’s a Prince Charming looking for me somewhere that will take just under 5 years to make up my mind. But I am also a very peculiar person, and in everyday life I do not know where to find someone who will not twitch and annoy me, will respect my space, will be calm, understand me. Also, his family is already like family to me, common friends. I do not want to lose it all.
Maybe there are people here who have been down this road? What have you done? Do you have regrets? How have you heard yourself? Maybe you can give some advice from your experience?
