This week, my hatred for school feels amplified. Anything minor (such as formatting or capitalizing “Internet”) sets me off. It will be over soon. I’ll take a much-needed break. And once again, I’ll fall in love with Oregon because I associate it with having a good time. So when I move there and get a job, I’ll be highly disappointed. Oh well. Just ruminating, I suppose… avoiding more work. =(
Thoughts on marriage; it didn't change my life, but it improved it.
I once thought that high school graduation really meant something. I thought that walking the line for my Bachelor’s degree would be even more momentous. But to be honest, nothing has lived up to the joy I’ve experienced since being married.
I’m the kind of person who enjoys a little drama, but certainly not in my own life. And I did enjoy the ups and downs (in retrospect) of dating there for a little while. But when Joe asked me to marry him, I knew that this was what I wanted for my life. Joe makes me genuinely happy and beyond that, we have fun and enjoy sharing parts of our lives that others may not get.
Our wedding was amazing, as it incorporated four things I love: friends, family, dancing, and alcohol. It has proven to be a sign of what our life would be like together, as we enjoy all four. I adore his family and he fits right in with my friends. We met in a dance class, and Joe and I love finding a new beer or wine to try out.
"Marriage changed my life for the better" is what Plinky named this particular prompt. But let’s just make one thing clear: marriage didn’t change anything, except that we’ve settled in to a cozy lifestyle with one another. Before our wedding, we were the same people. But being married, allowing Joe to define me as a person (at least partially)? That has changed my life, because what he does reflects upon me, and in most cases, those reflections are all positive.
“Ron had had a fit of gallantry and insisted that Hermione sleep on the cushions from the sofa, so that her silhouette was raised above his. Her arm curved to the floor, her fingers inches from Ron’s. Harry wondered whether they had fallen asleep holding hands. The idea made him feel strangely lonely.”—J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
It’s a few years old, but I remember waking up this every day for nearly a year. Not because I was in love with the song, but because the guy who gave me the CD and opened my eyes to a different kind of music was someone I really respected. Not romantically, but in a close way. We barely talk now.
I think what bothers me most is the idea that we never really had much in common in the first place.
All these songs, poems, and declarations of love through the millennia. But I’ve never been able to put words, music, or art to my feelings on love. I know I’m currently in love, and I think it’s cute when people can say such wonderful things about the matter. But what others say about love is never how I feel about it, and my ability to give my own meaning to it is lacking. Which is strange, because I’m usually never at such a loss. Perhaps speechlessness is the only way for me to go?