At Sea

“You’re getting married? Have you set a date?”

“Tentative. June 14.”

“Wonderful. I’ll put it on the calendar.”

“Don’t you want to know the year?”

“Seriously? Isn’t it the first June, like next year?”

“We don’t know. I told you. Tentative.”

“So the wedding itself and, one supposes, the marriage is tentative?”

“The wedding. I don’t suppose the marriage will be tentative. How can you have a ‘tentative’ marriage?”

“Oh, plenty of people have done that. I have a friend who did that but it lasted twelve years. That’s something to think about. There’s regular tentative and longterm tentative.”

“But I love her. I want to spend my life with her.”

“Starting when? That’s the question right now. Doesn’t she want to spend the rest ofΒ her life with you?”

“She’s not ready to settle down. She says there are things she wants to do, and she wants to do them on her own, by herself, before…”

“Ah. Well, take it from me, kid. If she is that upfront with you about not being ready, that’s a good thing. But I don’t think you’re getting married.”

“Oh c’mon. There’s a June every year.”

“If I were you I’d just get a job on a container ship and see the world. Then when that magical June rolls around, she’ll come looking for you. Don’t wait around.”

“But what if she’s ready and I’m not here?”

“If she loves you…”

“Are you saying she doesn’t love me?”

“No. I’m just saying that if she loves you, she’ll find you. But you don’t want to miss out on your life in the meantime, right? Carpe Diem and all that is real, son.”

“She’s my life.”

“Time and tide wait for no man — or woman. Sorry you’re going to find out the hard way. I have to go to the store. Anything you need?”

7 thoughts on “At Sea

Comments are closed.