Or at least that's how life feels lately: full of good fortune and winnings.
- Rover and I are head-over-heels, disgustingly in love.
- I feel good about my performance on my promotional exam.
- Rover scored in the top 10 on his promotional exam and will be moving up the ladder once again.
- And now, Rover won a 5-day trip to Italy for two! For real.
* * * *
I had a serious discussion with Rover about marriage this weekend. I asked him if he'd thought again about what he'd said about marrying me a couple of weeks ago. He said, no, he hadn't given it any thought. To him, it didn't constitute any kind of life plan. I was disappointed, but told him that I had been thinking about it, that the statement had meant something to me--something tantamount to a proposal.
I could tell that mentally, he had begun to dig his heels in to once again defend his position against marriage, both of us fully aware that our respective positions are in steady opposition to one another. The conversation took on a serious tone, and he began to ask me if I was going to leave him if he didn't marry me. I simply said that I did not want to leave him, that I love him and am very happy with him, that I like "us." But I said that I could not make any promises about tomorrow, implying, I guess, that I might leave if and when I change my mind about staying in a no-marriage relationship.
At some point, he conceded that, perhaps, we could get married, but not this year or next year and probably not the year after that or even the year after that. "In 15 years" was thrown out there. A rather dismal bone, if you ask me. We continued our discussion slowly and quietly, in a well-thought-out sort of way and finally finished, exhausted and drained, our positions still at opposite ends--well, except for that "in 15 years" offer....
We went to bed under a shroud of palpable sadness, not hugging, not kissing. Not angry, either, just sad and heavy. I thought a lot about my own feelings, my own ideas of marriage, the desires I've had recently to be married. I thought about how happy I'd been when Rover had suggested that marriage was a possibility after all and how that knowledge had made me relax a bit and feel more secure with him and how really fucking great and in-love and romantic we've been with one another since that night. I felt a little confused: is it about the person or the concept?
What does marriage mean?
I think it means all those things I thought it meant when I posted about it. That's what it means to me. It means commitment and security--to me.
The next morning, we both woke up quiet. It was a long while before one of us spoke. I don't remember how the conversation began, but essentially it came down to this:
For him, marriage has meant not being able to have the sex life he wants. He has never felt he could make the promise to be faithful to any of the women he's been with.
Until now. He says he can be who he is with me; he can do what he wants and be his true sexual self.
And so he no longer has that obstacle. He said he figured he could not marry me and just wait until I finally leave, but then where would he be? Back in the same place as always, with another woman with whom he cannot be himself and who, s always, will probably leave him once they have the no-marriage discussion. Besides, he said he loves me more than I'll ever know and that he loves his life with me, all of it. And he conceded that marriage does mean something to him.
And so he asked me to marry him. And so I said yes.
We decided to do it in two years time, in 2010, probably in September, when the weather is still nice.
I pleased. In 2010, we'll have been together for 8 years from the get go and 5 years since we started "going steady." I think that's a reasonable and sensible amount of time. God knows, anything could happen between now and then, but I don't think so.
We're good together.
And you know what? He's still happy today (and yesterday) after making his decision. He's still in love with me and doting on me and kissing me spontaneously and telling me I'm beautiful, etc. He's okay with his decision. That's important. Cuz it's never going to work if he feels ramrodded into this situation. I mean, come on, we know he wouldn't have done it on his own, so sure, there's a little bit of ramrodding going on. But I can see that he's good with his decision and that he's happy. Fortunately, he's a solid person and doesn't take these things lightly and wouldn't do something that he's not comfortable doing, so...
Anyhow, that's me.
Life is good.