So Facebook informed me today that Ashley Tisdale got married. Of course, that’s none of my fucking business, but hearing that news just made me feel so damn old. It’s been, what, eight years since High School Musical aired? Yet part of me still sees Ashley as Sharpay, and it’s crazy to think that she’s like 29 now. Anyhow, seeing her gorgeous and very expensive-looking wedding photos reminded me what a speed demon time is and that before long my friends and I too will be walking down the aisle of doom. Hell, a few of my closest friends have already set their wedding venues and decided on the guest lists. If it were up to me, I’d pick some shady ass motel in Vegas. Just to fuck with my parents.
Personally, I’m very conflicted about this subject. Part of me cringes at the thought of being tied down to one person for an indefinite number of years, primarily because I’m weak at commitment and particularly susceptible to temptations. Also, if my beloved happens to be a chronic snorer I don’t think I’ll have a choice but to divorce him. Sometimes love just isn’t enough. Yet another, smaller part of me can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wear such an uncomfortable and overpriced dress, have a hundred eyes raining down on you while you attempt not to trip and fall during that ridiculously long walk to your betrothed, and stand for an hour in 5in heels while some random old man monotonously regurgitates a bunch of vows you’re never gonna keep anyway. Oh, the power of love. It’d be a hell of an experience to have.
For the most part marriage scares me. It might be because it didn’t work out between my parents, or many of my friends’ parents, for that matter. I think the magic about marriage is all in the build up, in the uncertainty. Just like with everything else in a relationship – the kiss, the first date, etc. When is he gonna ask me? Is she gonna say yes? How am I supposed to propose? You’re always looking forward to that big event, and all that exhilaration and optimism vanish as soon as it ends. The problem about marriage might be that it’s too perfect. Too beautiful and romantic. You spend so much money and energy to make it the greatest day of your life that you forget you have another 40 years to follow that perfect day. And what if you can never recapture that dizzying high again? What if love can’t grow stronger and life can’t get better than that one night? Getting married is like taking molly or ecstasy or some shit: the buildup and the peak are orgasmic, then you crash hard and it’s the lowest low you’ll ever feel in your life.
Perhaps I’m just too young and immature to understand true love or commitment or whatever, but the way my 19 year old mind sees it, marriage ruins rather than strengthens feelings. Compelling it may be. Lasting? Not so much.