August 07, 2006

I Know How It Will Be

When we were in Santorini waiting for a ferry to Crete, I looked around and noticed many young couples around us. I weighed it all up in my head and realized if a=June and b=young couples then a+b=sex central, aka honeymoons. One couple in particular caught my attention.

While Angus-carrying our passports and our suitcase, business class tickets in his pocket-chatted with a nice older couple from Boston who were also waiting for the ferry and whom were regaling him with their experience years ago in the Lake District (strangely, they thought I was English. I didn't correct them on that, and I don't know why I didn't.), I watched this particular young couple in earnest. They must have been early twenties and clearly newlyweds-he held both of their American passports and their economy class tickets in his hands and he fidgeted constantly with his wedding ring, being unaccustomed to the weight of it. She had two bright, shiny rings on her left hand as well, and seemed nonplussed by them-they're supposed to be there, I am supposed to be laden was the gist of it. She had a tank top and a peasant skirt on, her hair in one long braid casually thrown over her shoulder. He had a dark blue shirt and khaki cargo shorts, a University of Michigan hat on his head (dark blue, bright yellow "M".) Both of them had large hiking backpacks slung over their backs.

I watched them, memerized. Maybe it is the anthropologist in me, or maybe it is the fact that I have been there, done that. I too have backpacked my way through the Greek Isles, never knowing where we'd stay, never minding that a night of sleep might be on the deck of a boat or it might be somewhere that tasted like the sea.

I watched them, and I understood.

I remember what it is like to be them.

Still giddy from the wedding, excited and in love. Memories of their wedding day still a bizarre mishmash in their head, too many people and too much happening. It's as though the rose petals are as fresh a scent on them as the first official night as a married couple.

I knew what was coming next.

They'd get home, exhausted and exhiliarated from their honeymoon. They'd bore everyone to tears with stories of their trip to Greece, how Santorini was beautiful and spacious, how Athens was dirty and noisy. Once the dust wore off their REI backpacks (now safely stowed in the hallway closet of their 2 bedroom apartment) the real world would set in.

The real world was driving to and from work. The boards and brick shelves that hold up the TV and VCR would be decorated with trinkets they bought on their honeymoon. Inside the tiny kitchen were sparkly appliances that they got from their wedding, and in one cupboard the china they requested, right down to the matching gravy boat.

Real life would be commuting to work. Setting the Tivo for Lost and watching it together, her in the pajama bottoms from The Gap. Dinners would be quick and simple, often of the frozen TV dinner variety. Occasionally they'd barbecue on their little apartment balcony with friends as young and noble as they are, him in his U of Michigan hat, she with her hair down, all of them clutching a moisture-laden half-drunk Dos Equis.

Over time the brick and board shelves would grate. In would come shelves from Pier One or IKEA, and the fleece covered futon would be replaced by a couch that they bought for $550 on a credit card with 15.9% APR. They would work hard at their careers and within a year would trade in one of their beaten up cars for a new, punchy car-an SUV, or an Audi TT, or a 4 year-old blue BMW that he would meticulously care for. His U of Michigan hat would linger in the backseat, and he'd wear it when the sun was out and he didn't have to mind the hat hair.

Then they'd move house. One or two of their Greek trinkets would get broken in the move, but the sacrifice would be worth it because they'd have a house now. They would borrow nearly the entire amount of money needed to buy the house but while means were tight, they were by no means unbearable. Their shower curtain would come from Linens 'N Things, her shower gel from Bath and Body Works. It would smell like sweet peas, and even though she'd never seen a sweet pea in her life, she'd love the scent. Their garden would consist of a large lawn and some straggly marigolds she'd planted then forgotten about. They'd drive to South Carolina/San Diego/the Hamptons for a one week holiday, where they'd laugh and spend time and eat seafood with their fingers. Their couch would still not be paid off.

Their marriage would have been going for a couple of years by this time. Attentions would start turning-he'd be plumping for the promotion and so would she, but their minds would start to turn to family. They'd take the brakes off and he would have night sweats about it. As weeks turned into months turned into a year, they'd wonder what was going on. They'd buy another couch, this time at 13.7% APR, and their guest room would remain a guest room. Sex would be dictated by a thermometer and an ovulation chart. It would rarely be anything but missionary.

She'd see a fertility specialist. They'd kick off IVF and the thin waist she had would be lost to bloating from the hormones and the open eating you have to do while trying to conceive. He'd get lines around the side of his eyes. It would be hard on their marriage. Fertility treatment may or may not work. There would be tears. They'd quarrel a lot, more than they used to, and she'd look at their wedding photo and wonder what happened to that guy, that guy she got all giddy with at the altar. He'd wonder what happened to that adventurous girl, the one who re-enacted the strip scene from 9½ Weeks. They'd never get an answer.

The stress would take its toll. He might hit her once, maybe twice. She'd cut her hair. He'd start relaying his fears to his best friend.

Then she'd announce it was over. He'd leave and she'd pack his things for him. She'd give him the wedding china, including the unused gravy boat. She'd keep the not-yet-paid-for couches. Going into the bin would be the IVF drugs, the Greek trinkets, and his U of M hat-she'd been tired of it for years and just waiting for her chance.

And just like that, it'd be over.

I watched them and knew that was what was ahead of them.

I wondered when I'd become so jaded.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 08:45 AM | Comments (27) | Add Comment
Post contains 1167 words, total size 6 kb.

1 Wow... sad. Do you really think that will happen? Do love and hope and long happy marriages not exist anymore? Or is this just a jaded view of the world? No offense to you, Helen, but I'm going to keep my dreams of finding that right guy to enjoy the rest of my life together. After all, that's what dreams are for, right? Do you read these comments?

Posted by: Hannah at August 07, 2006 12:08 PM (5w+E2)

2 My first thought isn't that it's jaded, it's realistic... of course, that means that I'm jaded too, right?

Posted by: amber at August 07, 2006 12:12 PM (vdo94)

3 Hannah-I always read the comments. I generally don't respond in comments because I'm not home, and I can't/don't access my blog from work (work has blocked damn near everything on the web.) Some days (long London days) I don't get to read comments until late in the evening, but I read every one of them and always think about them (honest!) I don't respond to the comments via email as I feel like that might be invading people's privacy somehow. But when I work from home, like I get to today, I will try to be more regular among the comments. I think my problem is with young married couples. For me-either because I am a cynic or because I have been there-marriage is better when the couple is older and have figured a few things out from life. Enter life together too soon and with no experience, and things can get fucked up pretty quickly-but this is my perspective only. Happy marriages do exist, but I think that both people need to have a little time on the pedometer before walking down the aisle together. Amber-jaded is good. We like jaded. Wanna join me on the Jaded Bench? I brought beer?

Posted by: Helen at August 07, 2006 12:24 PM (BuBb1)

4 I actually agree with your explanation in the comment though I did come on here to say that you were jaded I married at 28 to a man that had been through it once before at a very young age. We both had our scars and baggage, but some how it really did make sure work harder.

Posted by: Jadewolff at August 07, 2006 12:45 PM (cH5GO)

5 Till death do us part is a vow that reflect reality. A reality Helen is discussing. Upon marriage there are three entities. Boy, Girl and boy-girl. Unless it is a same sex couple -same rules apply. All exist and share each other. Once the joint enity ceases to exist as a healthy entity the marriage vows have been satisfied. Intersting to read Hannah's thoughts as a recent employee was a Hannah who shared similar views. After she left most of us remarked how we would like to be there when her first marriage disintergrates. And hers will. She lacks the experience to understand people change and the ability to cope with the changes. I feel sorry for her. How do I know. Like Helen, been there and done that.

Posted by: Foggy at August 07, 2006 01:05 PM (Ah2V/)

6 Hope Hannah understood I did not mean confuzzled Hannah. Was referring to the Hannah I know. Unless the confuzzled Hannah has a sever case of split personality as the Hannah I know would be incapable of the confuzzled blog.

Posted by: Foggy at August 07, 2006 01:13 PM (Ah2V/)

7 as one half of a young couple preparing to tie the knot, all i can say is that i hope we can avoid landing in that "fucked up" place, as Helen put it.

Posted by: geeky at August 07, 2006 01:41 PM (ziVl9)

8 It doesn't have to be this way. I met my husband at 15, we were together for 10 years before we got married and we've been married for 13 years. I admit it isn't always rosy but sometimes you just know you're going to be OK. My husbands parents have been maried for 49 years and my own parents for almost 47 years, so maybe I just don't expect anything else. Maybe sometimes there is a "happliy ever after". I hope you've found yours with Angus.

Posted by: Gill at August 07, 2006 01:59 PM (TsRom)

9 It doesn't have to be this way. I met my husband at 15, we were together for 10 years before we got married and we've been married for 13 years. I admit it isn't always rosy but sometimes you just know you're going to be OK. My husbands parents have been maried for 49 years and my own parents for almost 47 years, so maybe I just don't expect anything else. Maybe sometimes there is a "happily ever after". I hope you've found yours with Angus.

Posted by: Gill at August 07, 2006 02:00 PM (TsRom)

10 I don't think that life experience makes us jaded. It does make us wise. In your life, this is what you have seen happen, so it stands to reason that you could see these kids lives headed there. Sometimes, we make these observations so that if it does happen, we can say "Ha! Told ya so...I KNEW it..." But the fact that you give love a go with Angus, everyday, shows that you don't fully believe that this is what happens to love. Although, the chump DOES sport a Michigan hat, and every good Buckeye knows that Michigan sucks. So if it all falls apart for him, I'd blame it on the whole Michigan thing... (Sorry...I had to go there...) I think you're wonderful. You're not jaded. You're very f*cking smart.

Posted by: Serena at August 07, 2006 02:04 PM (ToHm9)

11 Geeky, I really wish you happiness in your marriage. Honest. Not all marriages that start off at a young age end at a young age. It's just my cynical view. If I think about Angus and I-if we'd met and hooked up in our early 20's (which is impossible given our age difference, but there you are) we'd maybe not have made it-our relationship is a function of who we are today. It's as Serena summed up-what we've seen in our experiences has helped make us who we are as a couple. And as an individual, time has helped even more-I maybe don't know who I am, but in my early 20's? It was a wilderness.

Posted by: Helen at August 07, 2006 02:23 PM (BuBb1)

12 Unfortunately, the odds are with you, Helen. I've seen this from both sides of the fence and believe the marriages that last are few and far between. Of course NONE of us expect that is how it will end when we marry, or we'd never marry! There is always so much hope in a wedding... I think I've finally found my 'happily ever after', but it took more than one go-'round at the old wedding game. I hope you, too, have found yours.

Posted by: sue at August 07, 2006 03:36 PM (ZZHVm)

13 I'm not sure why you assume that poor couple, who did nothing to deserve being reduced to a cultural stereotype, to paraphrase "Annie Hall," would have fertility problems. While I think we all know far too many people who have tragically struggled to get and stay pregnant, the vast majority of people still are able to get pregnanct and reproduce when they want. Maybe that only staves off the inevitable for this couple, and it is the tedium of caring for two kids while juggling careers and fighting money woes and never having sex that eventually does the marriage in. But, don't you think that, in this instance, you might have been universalizing from your own experience somewhat? That's not jaded. That's something else entirely.

Posted by: Emily at August 07, 2006 04:05 PM (CO+eQ)

14 Geez, I dunno Emily. You're the one that seems to have something stuck in your craw about this. I have the feeling you're having a go at me regarding me judging the "poor couple" yet I think you're in turn judging me. I was indeed musing about a couple based on my experiences, which I stated early on in the post. And "cultural stereotype" has been around long before Annie Hall.

Posted by: Helen at August 07, 2006 04:56 PM (BuBb1)

15 I for one am looking forward to my upcoming marriage. At 34 I hope my view never goes as jaded.

Posted by: Drew at August 07, 2006 05:16 PM (DngOs)

16 My husband and I were 22 when we married, and it will be 11 years on August 12. True, we have changed, grown, and 'found' ourselves these past years, but we have fortunately done it together. And it has been a hell of a lot of work sometime. The flip side is a lot of young couples grow apart as they grow up-it is a fact of life. Helen, your are not as jaded as you think. Marriage itself is a ton of work-as you well know-and the changes we all go through in our early and mid twenties can sometimes complicate things. On the other hand, it can strengthen a marriage. I know mine has seen many challenges-including my diagnosis and struggle with depression, and we were both juniors in college when we married-still being asked out by other people even after we were married! However, it has drawn us together even more, and after the children (a whole new batch of challenges), we have to work at being a united front everyday. Yes, there are times I wish we would have waited a few more years, but I have no regrets. I adore my husband, and he does me. Does that mean every couple should marry young? Hell no. Does that mean every couple should wait? No. What it does mean is that each couple should do what they feel is right for them. From what you write, you are growing more confident and secure in your own skin everyday. If I was a strong of a woman then as I am now a lot of the silly little arguments we had (and at the time the ones I thought were so important) would have never taken place. That is why you and Angus work so well-you know who you are and what you want. And even though we are in our (very) early thirties, it is hard not to look at those in their early twenties and almost feel sorry for them, knowing all the life they have to learn about, yet they are so confident they know everything. I do it all the time-funny thing is when we were on our honeymoon (where you going now that you are married? Disney World!!) someone was probably looking at us the same way you were looking at that couple-I just thank god that we didn't end up that way, and at the same time I thank god those years are behind us. A lot of laughs, but a lot of tears too. Thanks for the post today-I thought it was brilliant.

Posted by: Teresa at August 07, 2006 05:34 PM (f+o6m)

17 I wasn't going to chime in, but after reading Teresa's comment, I felt like I needed to put in my 2 cents. I don't think you're jaded, just realistic. Like Teresa, my hubby and I met early on (Junior High, actually) and started dating young (he was my prom date!). We've been married 7 years and together over a dozen. And that can be a scary thing, considering that more than a third of my life is wrapped up with his. We've been lucky enough to grow together, instead of apart, and to be able to remember that we are important to each other. I think a lot of couples forget that, or they marry so early in life that their togetherness has no meaning for them. When we're younger, we're selfish, and the things we want individually are the most important things. As older, wiser people we learn to value the relationships in our lives more than we did when we were younger, and be less selfish about our wants.

Posted by: caltechgirl at August 07, 2006 06:07 PM (/vgMZ)

18 Damn it. Crying here. First go - I was 19. He was 20. We were both in grad school and got married because it just seemed like the thing to do. Why not add an MRS to the BBA and MBA? It lasted less than a year. The hitting preceded the IVF thankfully. When I left - I left the German china that had been handed down through the family - including the gravy boat. Second go. I was 23, he was 38. It'll be four years this week. We got all the way up to IVF before he changed his mind and said no more. And I'm leaving behind the gravy boat again (which we never even used) because I've grown up - and in doing so - grown apart from a man that I once desperately loved with every fibre of my being. It's breaking my heart, but it is. It just is. This isn't cynical or jaded. It's real. It's fundamentally impossible for people to understand what infertility does to you, how it rips you apart psychologically and leaves you a shell of who you once were - unless you've been there. It breaks apart all that you believe and crushes your dreams. It destroys you and the ones you love. And hell, if there's room on the Group J bench, I'd not mind to be sat there.

Posted by: April at August 07, 2006 08:00 PM (MSB13)

19 But I think it's not that I'm jaded. It's that I believe that there's more than this feeling of emptiness. I believe that it's possible to be happy. I'm taking a chance, but I know that the reality is not always lovely.

Posted by: April at August 07, 2006 08:03 PM (MSB13)

20 I don't see it as a bad thing, this jaded you. It not about being jaded. It's about even through the lowest most jaded times of our lives, we carry on toward another go. Please forgive any multiple posts, the page keeps telling me I can't post because I am stupid. No really, it does. I am just going to try again...

Posted by: Some Girl at August 07, 2006 08:41 PM (+3BZS)

21 You are truly a writer. I'm sitting here in shock. I often look at people while traveling and wonder what their life is like, instead of wonder, you've describe it. Not the flower smelling dreams of newlyweds is it? Being a not so flowery newlywed myself I admire your jaded view and appreciate your honesty as always. Keep writing. I can see a lot of newlywed couples I know in the couple you described. But I know that I won't be one...for one we didn't even have a honeymoon

Posted by: Juls at August 07, 2006 09:54 PM (ka1Yp)

22 Helen - As usual, great writing. I enjoyed the thought, like you were pondering. I've noticed those couples too. You forgot to mention the part where she realizes that going to the alter was like sprinkling magic fairy dust on their relationship. He's still the same a-hole who chewed tabacco. And she still doesn't like his mother. And you forgot the part where she thinks if they could just have a baby, they would have something in common, then they would have a permanent bond. It was a great exercise in writing. Very descriptive.

Posted by: sarajane at August 07, 2006 09:59 PM (t5Xsa)

23 just wanted to say, this was my favorite post in a long time. i don't know why.

Posted by: anew at August 07, 2006 10:29 PM (QaZas)

24 I do that often myself, you know. Superimpose an imagined life onto people who wander into my line of mindsight. It's not jaded, in my view. It's a release of something, almost. An exploration of something personal, with convenient, unawares bystanders available for performing the script we write in our veins. This was gorgeous, Helen. Every multi-textured line.

Posted by: Jennifer at August 08, 2006 12:30 AM (CEc5z)

25 Delurking. I heard a story where a traveler comes to a man sitting outside a town and asks what the people in that town are like. The man sitting asked, "What were the people like in the last town you were in?" "Selfish, conniving, and resentful," came the reply. The man sitting said, "These people are about the same." Another traveler came, asked the same question, and was similarly queried by the man sitting. The traveler responded, "Kind, helpful, and pleasant." The man sitting said, "These people are about the same." I think often we get what we expect. If you expect 5 years of good marriage followed by 2 crappy years and divorce, you're likely to get it. If you expect a life-time marriage and are willing to work at it, you're likely to get it. But as the great Sam Malone said, "That's just one guy's opinion." Back to lurking.

Posted by: K David at August 08, 2006 02:55 PM (pW0NG)

26 You are completely accurate, how much of the 'happy couple' is an act? When reality sits in the insecurities escalate, and they are left to wonder who they are and what happened to the fairy tale. I got married way too early...it is A LOT of work, especially when the kids come along. But we do go numb...and then check back in to reality...and check back out to fairytale.

Posted by: Steff at August 09, 2006 12:46 AM (Ip3Mw)

27 Interesting comments. However... idealistic is not necessarily realistic. Realistic means realizing that the world is NOT your oyster and that people aer out there to fuck you. While I do see this, I'm trying really really hard not to believe it yet, to try and believe that there's always going to be some good in people. I don't want to have to accept this truth yet, though I'm afraid it's coming. I've been through a big messy breakup, though thankfully we were both decent to each other through most of it. But ... I don't want to have to recognize the ugliness of it all. Can I wait a couple of years until I join you guys on the jaded bench?

Posted by: Hannah at August 10, 2006 10:42 AM (5w+E2)

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