A part of you is still longing for a meaningful relationship with a woman – something long term, filled with fun and excitement. You still want to know what it’s like to have that relationship that keeps getting stronger, with someone who brings out the best in you. All of that is natural. If you have to think about it, though, the chick you’re with is not the right one.
I’ve been there. It always starts out the same. You meet a chick who blows away all your initial expectations and meets all your threshold demands – she laughs at your jokes, looks stunning in a tight sweater and even laughs at your asshole friend’s jokes. Maybe you’re more specific, and she’s at least 5’10”, blonde and works a job making decent money. Whatever your “type” is, she fits the bill.
So you ask her out. Things seem to be going well and you still want a go at those sweater kittens. So you put in a little work. From the moment the two of you collapse into your first mutual sweaty heap, it is patently obvious that the sexual chemistry is there. You vow to get together again soon and follow up.
For the first few months, you’re screwing like you just got out of jail and she’s with you lockstep. The two of you start to spend more and more time together and eventually you settle into a routine. She has survived your first bed fart, your first night of too many drinks and your first road rage incident. And hot damn, she looks good naked. You catch yourself thinking what a lucky guy you are to have found someone who “puts up with your shit.”
But holy shit, is she annoying sometimes. Whatever it is, it’s awful to hear her go on and on about it: Her drug-addled sister, that co-worker who is totally out to get her, or her insane mother. It doesn’t matter, though, because you’ve got such a great thing going. I mean, most of the time she’s great.
More and more time goes by. The sex has slowed down just a bit but it’s still awesome – the two of you don’t even schedule get-togethers because you just seem to end up together at the end of the day. And she totally didn’t shit a brick when you and the boys dropped off the face of the earth for a weekend to hit that football game a few states away. She occasionally feels the need to have a detailed discussion about how much she loves her dishware, though, and how if you’re going to load the dishwasher you ought to do it the right way so that the plates don’t chip. But you know what? This chick is great. You have good conversations and she really “gets” you.
After some more time, you are de facto roommates. She’s got as much clothes at your place as she does at hers and an entire shelf in your bathroom is devoted to cuticle cream, leave-in conditioner and about fourteen types of nail polish. All pretense of romance is gone. The two of you only have one grocery bill and chores are divided as though both of you are on the deed. She complains about the cleanliness of your bathroom.
But overall, you’re a good fit. And besides, you’ve been together for so long. You’re not getting any younger. The two of you have talked about marriage, but you have deftly avoided making any such commitment. She surprises you once in a while – an extra-nice birthday present, some daytime road head or a knockout performance at your mom’s birthday party wowing all the family members she hadn’t already met. And while you’ve had a bunch of fights, you always work it out quickly. Pound-for-pound, this chick is better than any chick you’ve ever dated. What a lucky guy.
Why not get married? She’s clearly headed in that direction, so just jump in. Maybe she’s just been tense because she’s worried she’s wasted a few years of her life on you.
Here is when that part of you, who still wants the idyllic marriage, starts whispering in your ear. You make a few surreptitious visits to the jewelry store and start learning about diamonds.*
If ANY of this, ANY of it rings a bell, do NOT get married to this girl. She’s the wrong one.
I walked down this road once. I thought I was too old to be single, was in a nice, comfortable rut with a nice-enough girl who still piqued my interest from time to time, and just figured it was time to get married. I even bought a diamond. Thank the Lord above I came to my senses before the big day, because I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. All because, like “you” in the story above, I was steadily convincing myself that the status quo was acceptable.
It’s easy to do. My mistake was subconsciously comparing my relationship then to all the failed relationships I had endured before, and consistently giving her a passing grade simply because the alternative was to admit failure. Since I stuck with that plan for so long I eventually convinced myself that she was “the one.” She was far from it.
How do I know all this?
Because I’m about to get married to the right girl. After my near-miss I flittered and fucked around for a while before finding myself in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship. But that relationship too was the wrong one. My experiences with my horrible ex-fiancée taught me not to evaluate my relationships by comparing them to anyone in my past – only because if I held all women to her standard I would be a woman-hating misogynist, which I cannot abide. I was forced to figure out my relationships for what they were, not whether they were better or worse than the old ones. And that’s the only way I knew that my last serious ex-girlfriend was not a good fit.
How do I know I’ve gotten it right this time? I will not bore you with the cliché answer – that I “just know.” I can tell you specifically. My fiancée and I have functioned like best friends since we met. We just enjoy each other’s presence. Neither of us have ever held back in speaking our mind. This open communication keeps us from letting anger fester, which means neither of us has EVER had to apologize for something we’ve said. She’s smarter than me. That’s new. I’m smart as shit, but she’s smarter. Yet I know a bunch of stuff she doesn’t, so we each learn from each other. Both of our contributions make our life together better. Frequently. Of utmost importance, though, is that the way I live my life is desirable to her and the way she lives her life is desirable to me. We each live according to our own rules and it fits. We don’t have to engage in horse-trading, such as mowing the lawn in exchange for “guy time” or any of that bullshit. My friends love her. She’s the only chick whose presence at happy hour does not throw off the vibe and she even helps my boys hook up. I am a better person for knowing her and she is a better person for knowing me. We both know it, live it and enjoy it. And she was relieved that I didn’t buy a diamond. I could go on for pages about how awesome this chick is. I never thought about marrying her because by the time I wanted to entertain the notion it was a foregone conclusion. There is nothing else I would rather do than keep growing with her and she loves that about me. The best part is that the feeling is mutual.
So dude, don’t fucking do it. Don’t talk yourself into marriage. Mutual love and respect does not require a pep talk or an explanation. If you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about, you have not found the right chick. So don’t fucking do it.
* HOLY FUCK, DO NOT BUY A DIAMOND. It’s a goddamn scam, first of all, with artificially high prices, but more importantly you’d be supporting the torture and enslavement of Africans – including children – just to conform to western society. If you’re okay with that, fuck you.