The other day I ran into a girl that I’ve known since grade school, but haven’t seen since I graduated high school.
While picking through the produce at Jewel, she told me that she had just become engaged. Beaming, she showed me her diamond ring.
I smiled back and, genuinely happy for her, said, “Oh, that’s nice.”
She started to chuckle a little and, with a distant look on her face, began rehashing our lunches spent in our middle school lunchroom, wherein she and a group of our friends would all talk about what their weddings were going to look like. Such fantasies included beaches, night weddings, chocolate cake, blue bridesmaid dresses and doves resting on elegantly draped vines. And then the group would turn to me.
“And, then,” my former friend laughed, “You’d always grimace and pretend to be doing your homework and say, ‘I’m never getting married.’ Haha. You’re not like that anymore are you? Do you still think boys are gross?”
Mildly ashamed, I looked at my feet. “No, I mean, I date now…sometimes.”
“Oh, so no one special?” she said, “No marriage in your future?”
“Um,” I said, defeated, “No offense, but I can’t really even imagine my marriage if I try. I have no difficulty, however, imagining my divorce.”
