gamer.

God didn't let me sleep through the morning today and that makes me happy. I don't think as well at night. But in the morning, soft from sleep, I am more sensitive to my surroundings. The sun on the lake, the tea in my cup, the fire in my stove. And it works on my insides too. I haven't chosen to ignore anything yet, it's all there waiting for me to think it.

And this is what I woke up with: marriage. The simple fact that I had marriage on the brain terrified me, but then I calmed myself down by rationalizing that it was just the wedding last weekend, nothing more. Here's the thing: out of everything in the world, I think marriage scares me the most. Not just because it is a forever thing. Or because it is sacred and holy. I think the biggest part is this- I'm not sure what marriage is anymore. I'm not sure that I want to be stuck with me for forever.

And it's not because that person would be intimately familiar with my physical degeneration over the years. Or become acquainted with all of my ridiculous quirks. I think what causes me to be the most cautious is my understanding of how impressionable humanity is. What if I change? What if he does? What if we start on the same page and then end up in entirely different books? Do you simply choose your way through it? Plow forward in search of who you are together? Or do you get a sinking feeling somewhere deep inside and wonder who the mistake was- you or him.

There are probably fifty different books written that have easy answers and steps and rules. Books that tell you how to be successful and great. And I'm sure there are numberless conferences and workshops and classes and groups.

But sometimes I think that we try to gloss over things without really looking at them. I'm not sure that being scared of marriage is a bad thing. We like to turn parts of life into games. Like church and school and dating and I think maybe that has the potential to carry over into that forever choice at the end of the aisle.

Because marriage starts with dating. And dating is a beast. This man-made phenomena that we spend years of our lives devoted to. Here's what dating does for us: it allows us to be sure. Right? You can take as long as you want, you can date as many as you want, you can commit as much as you want. And then in the end you can still walk away. How wonderful. But the reality is, we don't just have minds. We have hearts also. And desires and instincts. And pretty soon dating is more than a head thing. It's a messy, slippery, greying relationship that can quickly demand more than it is giving. So that in being smart we become fools. We stretch things out so that we can really think them through. Evaluate the other person. But in going slow, we go too far. Because the more time you spend, the more of yourself you spend. And you can't take yourself back.

The biggest thing that blows me away is this: people date even if they aren't ready for marriage. What? Why? As far as I know, there are only two outcomes, two possible endings. You end together, or you end apart. And to have no intention of being together forever with anyone before you start with someone, well wow. But on the flip side- you have to be willing to walk away alone at the end. If you aren't prepared to lose, then you have no business trying to gain. You have no business playing the game.

Here's something else that makes me nervous. I go through two year spurts. I've noticed this about my friends and I. We get antsy when we've been somewhere for too long. Or done something over and over. We like variety, impulsiveness, new things. And now we call that the "seven year itch." But I think that itch comes sooner and sooner. What if I get bored with him? What if he gets bored with me? Does being bored receive a lot more credit now than it did? Or have we just elevated how we're feeling to a level of higher determination?

I have decided, based on the realization that love is always a choice, that there are many different people I could marry. And that takes away the pressure of getting out there and sorting through the wrong ones until I find the right one. The stresser comes from the understanding that words have different meanings today. Commitment: this strong and intimidating for-sure word has all kinds of back doors now. It's as watered down as our Christianity. And that is scary. Forever: really means as long as nothing bad happens, as long as you don't mess up. Love: it's a feeling now. And apparently it's possible to fall out of it without finding a way back in.

I want to go back to when the deciding part was shorter and less analyzed. And the commitment part meant something. To where your wedding day was the beginning of your story, not the end. I want to go back to when marriage was something I wished for, not ran from. People listen to me and then ask me what the solution is. I half jokingly say arranged marriage. But really, I'm not sure. Because I have to be honest with myself: I am partially a product of my culture. And my culture is very much about me. So as selfish as I think dating is. As silly and drawn out and devastating as it is, it's also what is wired into me. Making choices is a big deal here. It's what freedom is all about, right? And that's where I live. The land of the free and the brave.

So maybe it looks like this: waiting. Until you know yourself a little better. Until you know Him a little more. And until you have watched enough to know what it is that is good. And what it is that you have to give. And maybe it means teaching children that playground romances and prom nights aren't as glamorous as we make them out to be. That the really good things in life don't always involve little dresses and quarterbacks. Maybe then it wouldn't be a game.

"If I find him
If I just follow
Would he hold me and never let me go
Would he let me borrow his wool winter coat
I don't know, I don't Know"
Rosie Thomas, Say Hello