You're going to marry me

Originally published in The Peak.

Being one of the few people I know who finished university without being either engaged, pre-engaged engaged, or simply being in a committed relationship, I’ve started to wonder when I’m going to end up getting married. I don’t think about marriage that much, mainly because I’m 23 years old — I don’t have an urge to settle down just yet. And while I know marriage doesn’t necessarily entail stasis, I’m aware that my own laziness and procrastination would prevent me from doing anything other than holding down a steady job and attending to the needs of my wife.

I spent most of my time in university enjoying — or at least attempting to enjoy — the single life. Although I was never actively avoiding getting into a relationship, I wasn’t exactly seeking one out. For the first two years of school most of my courting efforts were focused on getting too drunk to speak and trying to charm my way into the arms of any girl that would have me. As far as I knew, this was how people at university did it.

When I realized that this behaviour had only brought me a scar on my arm from being bitten and a series of severely awkward encounters on mornings and in coming weeks after, I decided I would only continue with it once a month. I figured it was time I actually tried to date someone, or at least limit myself to one drink before invoking the genetic Haas charm. The problem was at this point that almost every girl that interested me already had a boyfriend they had been dating for a year and a half.

I then found myself in a sort of limbo that I continue to be in until this day. In that time friends of mine have entered into serious relationships, some have gotten engaged, and many have moved in with their partner. I’ve spent that time pining after girls with boyfriends, trying to date girls who wouldn’t call me back, and getting into pseudo-off-and-on relationships with exchange students.

Nearing the end of my final semester, I thought I was screwed. Everyone else was going to be happy and married and I was going to be perennially alone watching episodes of Undeclared. Fortunately, being the son of divorced parents, my cynicism kicked in. I realized that even if a lot of the people I know do get engaged, married, or move in together, a percentage of them are going to break up.

Now I’m not looking to be the guy who swoops in to be the sympathetic shoulder to cry on, rather I’m hoping to be the guy who is already taken by the time the girls I liked in university finally realize that I am, in fact, perfect marriage material. Sure I might’ve been kind of a mess in university, drinking too much and avoiding talking about any trysts I experienced. I definitely wasn’t suave or jerky enough to appear as the badass type who attracted many of the girls I hit on when sober. I do know, for the most part, I came across as a decent guy. The kind of decent guy a girl might consider dating if she wasn’t already involved in a reasonably stable relationship, the kind of decent guy who is really funny and really nice, the kind of decent guy who actually thinks about what he’s doing with his life from time to time.

Now that I’m no longer in university, I’ve thrown myself into a pool of single women who are hungry for decent single guys. Whether they are divorcées or were similarly incapable of relationships in university, they’ve probably figured out what they want: me. The funny, semi-creative, fragilely handsome type is a hot seller among women who have realized they don’t want to settle for their high school sweetheart or continue to exclusively date guys with tattoos and motorcycles.

So by the time those of you come around looking for that really decent guy you should’ve dated in university, it’s probably going to be too late.