Menstrual Monday

Why do people find the idea of growing old together a romantic notion?

If you really sit down to think about it, it's like having bare-butt sex on the beach. The idea of it sends thrills down your spine. But the practicality of the situation is a far cry from what you visualise in your head. No matter how careful you are about it, sand has this magical ability to get into all the places it doesn't belong. When you're shitting sand, you'll wonder what on earth possessed you into doing it in the first place. (I'm simply describing what I imagine it to be like, but of course, now that I've said that, you're going to be even more convinced I'm speaking from experience.)

If you didn't get my elusive metaphor (okay, I kind of suck at those), sex on the beach represents the union (no shit), and sand represents all the little problems that eventually get under your skin and turn out to be one irritating level of hell.

But romanticism has no place in a world of ration and logic. And so, we continue to ignore the reality of marriage and delude ourselves into believing in that goddamned concept of 'happily ever after'. Thanks, Disney. Really. You are possibly the cause of half the divorces in this world. I mean, how will men ever live up to my expectations of a chivalrous prince on his white horse (in this case, a white Fairlady for me), fighting dragons to save me, and all trials and tribulations ending when the princess says, "I do." Then it's all rainbows and talking animals celebrating. Okay. That part, I can get over.

Thinking about it now, I guess now I know why fairy tales all end when the protagonist couple gets married. No one wants to know what happens after that. A wrinkly old princess croaking, "Who is that?" and her senile old prince - hard of hearing - shouting "FOR THE LAST TIME, YES, YOU'RE AS FAT AS YOUR MOTHER WAS!" And then, the fight started.


Having said all that, I still remain a romantic at heart. So when Justin says things like, "I want to grow old with you", the 27 year old in me disappears, leaving a giggly schoolgirl still caught up in fairy tales going, "Awww." Melt. Giggle. Blush. All that disgusting range of emotions that make people want to reach for a bucket and empty their lunch into. Because, deep down, I still hope that fairy tales weren't entirely made up. And I am now a firm believer in 'The One'.