I never, EVER, thought I would get married.
I, very vocally, believed that no one should even consider dating until they were 25. Secretly, I thought if everyone knew that I wasn’t going to think about marriage until then, I would have time to plan my big escape.
At 25, I hoped to be on the other side of the world, possibly on a Harley, and probably in China doing acid.
Seriously, my dream.
Well, time threw me the love of my life and when we realized our dreams didn’t match, (his was to be in some dojo in Japan mastering martial arts) we compromised and got married.
I can’t say it’s been all that bad. Two kids and lots and lots of troubles later, I’m actually warming up to the idea.
I’ve wondered about my lost dream though.
I’m 26 now. A year past my deadline.
Had I checked out last year and disappeared, how would things have played out?
If I really look at myself honestly, the journey would have gone something like this:
morning – arrive in China with no money left
later that morning – realize that languages are not my strong point
still later that morning – realize there is no acid to be had in China
noon – get the hell out of China via any stowaway opportunity
afternoon – arrive in Japan
early evening – climb a mountain to find my love
evening – take his bloody, beaten body down the mountain
late evening – camp out in front of the US Embassy
morning – convince the official who opens the door we’re not terrorists
later that morning – concoct story involving cults and kidnappings
still later that morning – think about eating monkey brains
noon – fasten seat belts for takeoff
afternoon – arrive somewhere
early evening – get married
evening – take vow to never mention Asia again
late evening – turn 25 and two days