Questions

How is it possible to want something so much and at the same time, to fear it so intensely?

I can't say I don't think about getting married, what it would be like...both the wedding and the marriage, the house, the kids, but at the same time, I can't say that I don't sometimes think I'll never be able to pull it all off. That, at some crucial moment, I'll balk...and throw away the potential for something more, all because I'm scared. Scared of it not working, and scared of what my life will become when it doesn't.

This is the part where I blame my parents. Yet, it's not about blaming them for getting divorced. It's more about them staying together for as long as they did, and the effects that THAT had on their marriage, and more importatly, on us. The fact is, we got to see a lot of the ugliness in their marriage, ugliness that trickled down (most often) from my mother to us. The way she treated us was a manifestation of what she felt inside, things she could find no other way to relieve herself of.

So, while I was young, it was my mother who was the bad guy. But as I grew and learned more about my parents' relationship, I saw more and more of the ugliness in my father. The things he did that, indirectly, affected his children. The things he didn't do that directly affected his children.

And yet, to this very day, they both claim to love us.

How can a person truly love another and do such things? How can they fail each other in such ways? How can one love another and be so selfish?

I don't want that sort of love. But...who I am to think I'd be exempt from such love if I marry? If I have my own children?

And so it is that I blame my parents for making me afraid of marriage. (There it is, I've said it.)

But....I still want it. Part of me is still romantic enough to desire "that life", to hope that someday I'll find myself in a situation that lends itself to marriage. The little girl in me still longs for the fairy tale. Call it optimism, call it idealism, call it what you will. I want it someday.

Though, sometimes I secretly hope someday never comes. Or, at least until I can get some answers to the questions that plague me.

I ask myself:

Is it really realistic to think he'll love me forever?
And, even if he loves me, how do I know he won't stray? Will he still want me if I get fat? Will I love HIM forever? Are we both selfless enough to work as hard as it takes to make a marriage work? Will we get bored, and if we do, will be remain steadfast in our commitment? When times get tough, will we be able to ride it out? Even if we think our love is true and everlasting, is it REALLY, or is our love merely clouding our judgement?

Even if we're completely honest with ourselves, how is it possible to answer such questions? And, if we can't answer them, can we trust what we actually feel, enough to just go with it?

Or, is this all a routine I engage in because of some subconscious motive to sabotage my future, my shot at happiness?

(I know you're thinking, "Great. She has to go and get all psychoanalytical on us.")

I don't want to be foolish, naive...to go about life thinking I'll be an exception to what is (increasingly) becoming the norm: divorce. Nor do I want to make life decisions based on fear, only to find out - much too late, of course - that I gave up the only thing I ever really wanted. Where is that elusive "happy medium" we're always talking about?

And the million-dollar question: Is there ever a time when I'll be able to cease asking myself that last one?