The Itch

So I would love to tell you that Mr. C and I went on to live blissfully for the next six years and that he surprised me with this romantic proposal and everything is just sunshine and unicorns and rainbows.

But I'm not gonna tell you that. Because that's just not the way life is.

The dude and I spent about four years of awesomeness together. Then somewhere toward the end of that fourth year things started changing in my brain. I got The Itch. You know it. The put-a-ring-on-it itch. I started to ask myself all of these asinine questions like, "Where is this relationship going? What are his intentions? Does he even want to marry me? Did I leave the iron on?"

It was bad news bears. And it kind of scared me. Because the reality is... I'm not that girl. I've never been that girl. I never cared about getting married. Or throwing a wedding. Or having babies. It just didn't matter to me. We were just having fun and we were both happy and that's all that really mattered. Then all of a sudden I freakin' snapped.

For a while I just kind of internalized it. I tried to gauge his interest and figure it out without communicating. (Bad move numero uno, in case you're counting.) Then, one night at dinner, he brought it up.

I can still remember that night perfectly because it almost felt like a proposal. I remember him telling me that he had been thinking about his future -- our future. And that he wasn't ready to make the next step yet, but that he did want to do it with me. I was elated. I remember telling him that I had been thinking that for a long time. Then I asked him when he thought he might be ready.

And here is where the communication really broke down. He claims he said "I will be ready to start thinking about it in another year". That is not what he said. Okay, maybe that is what he meant to say, but that's not what he said. I can't remember his exact words, but whatever they were I took them to mean "within a year".

Hive, these are two very different things. All I can tell you is that about 6 months later he still hadn't proposed and I was losing my freakin' mind. I started to think that it was never going to happen. That he had no intention of ever getting married. And why not? I was a catch god dammit and any man would be lucky to have me! At the same time, I thought what's wrong with me? What's wrong with me that after 4.5 years he doesn't want to marry me? It must be me right?

And sometimes I nagged him about it. Sometimes I yelled at him. Sometimes I just cried.

And here's the thing. The whole time this was happening I knew it was insane. I mean, why would he live with me and put up with my nagging and my bitchiness and my laziness and my sloppiness and all those other faults that I have if he didn't want to marry me? It was just stupid. And yet.... There was The Itch. It was uncontrollable.

I'm not proud of the way I acted. But I know I'm not the only one who has felt this way. I can't offer any advice because I kinda behaved like a jerk. All I can tell you is that I understand. I get it. And I'm sure more people have gone through it than you think. It's just that we can't talk about it because it's some sort of taboo subject. Because you're just suppose to shut up and sit pretty and wait for him to come to you on bended knee. Well, I disagree. In fact, a lot of my anger and frustration would have been abated if I just opened my mouth and told him exactly what I wanted. Instead, I let it bottle up for six months and I turned into a person that even I didn't recognize.

Anyways, I know this post is kind of a downer, but I really, truly believe that you can't have the good without the bad. And I promise, there is a heck of a lotta good coming up in my next post!!

Did anyone else turn into a giant put-a-ring-on-it monster? It's okay, you're in a safe place. :)