decisions

My life with him wasn’t easy. I cannot remember a day when he treated me like one would treat a princess. I hoped he was my prince charming. Though he didn’t actually promise me anything. Maybe it was just pure madness for me, thinking that it was time for the prince and the princess to get married and start their happy-ever-after kind of life. I was 28, I was of age. Supposed to be I was already capable of deciding for myself and knowing and understanding the pros and cons of these decisions. Looking back now, I wasn’t. I needed guidance. I needed someone to tell me, “Hey wake up. You deserve more in this life than settle down and be left behind by the world.”

I remember feeling eternally alone, lonely, isolated. Getting married was something I thought could rescue me from all the confusion. He was there. Quiet, not so much words, not so much promises. I remember that night when he asked, “Maybe we could wait for five more years. I’ve got plans, too.” I was so heartbroken, feeling like he was asking me to take the backseat. I cried and cried and cried and dared him to a breakup. No, it wasn’t really daring him. For me a breakup was better than being made to wait five more years. A breakup would mean freedom from him and a chance for me to reach for my dreams, follow my own star. But he didn’t agree to it. So he agreed to the marriage. Yes, looking back now, I can see that it was a half-hearted decision on his part.

I defied everybody. Even my parents. We got married in church with only two of my siblings present, and about 50 close friends and some relatives. On the days leading to the wedding, I remember feeling ambiguous about everything. I wasn’t scared. I was more of excited to start my own life, and worried could I make it? I didn’t have time to examine myself, or confront the reality that it was just me making everything happen. He didn’t have a single penny. He was still in college barely even making it, as there were times when he had to stop one semester for lack of money.