Previous Engagements

Two and a half years ago, when a good friend of mine announced she was engaged, I was appalled. For about two seconds.

"Oh yea... wow... congratulations. Have you um... set a date or anything?" Snickering. Not a chance. Come to think of it, I'd known several couples in high school so madly in love that they'd gotten engaged for about six weeks.

"July second." Less than a year away. Oh my god. Back to being appalled.

My friend gabbed away about reception halls and the fact that her brother would probably try to score with at least two of the bridesmaids while I smiled and nodded and wondered what the hell my problem was. Her then-fiancee is a great guy, they'd been together for several years, came from similar backgrounds, they would both soon be college graduates and would probably have four children and be together for the next 60 years. I had nothing against marriage per se, but always thought about it in a distant mortgage-paying, baby-wiping, nine-to-five kind of way. This was the girl who had, the weekend previously, gone shopping with me to buy about a yard of leopard print fabric and a bikini top to wear to a frat party. The girl who bought me purse-sized airplane bottles of coconut rum and who was openly disappointed with me if I didn't have anything juicy to tell her on Monday mornings. Why would she give all that up?

Eventually getting over myself, I've become fairly blase about the string of friends and acquaintances who have gotten engaged and married over the past couple of years. Until last week, when three of my friends got engaged. Two on the same day.

"Three?" My mother is unimpressed when I call her in moderate hysterics. "Maybe it was New Years' Resolution."

"What? To make me feel inadequate for not even having a boyfriend? Why would three guys I don't even know make a resolution to fuck with me?" Although I said the last two sentences only in my head.

Wait a second, was I jealous? How did I go from being disgusted by the thought of lifelong commitment to a little envious of the security? But it's not like I haven't been with any guys before. And as my mother moved on to telling me about the new sofas she wanted to buy, my mental slide show kicked in.

There was guy who, for a long time, I honestly thought was The One. He would look at me with an expression suggesting he couldn't believe his good luck to be next to me. We'd ask each other important questions about life and tell each other secrets until we were too tired to talk. Going to the beach or the movies with a group of other friends, everyone hated to be around us. We never made eye contact with anyone else.

There was the guy who didn't have to say anything. After meeting me once, he decided he liked me, and told all my friends, told me. Initially not understanding how anyone could feel something so suddenly, he wore me down with persistent smiles, hand-holding, kissing. He made me understand what it was like to be still and happy and uncomplicated.

There was the guy who knew me even before we met, because we felt identically about everything. Finding out new things we had in common every day, we would laugh about it when really...

"Amy, are you still there?"

"Wha? Oh, yeah, sofas. The brocade definitely doesn't mesh with your beach theme. Listen, I have to go. I'll call you later."

I'm not a romantic. The One turned out to be completely immune to me once he crossed the state line to go to school, and even our friendship ended several years after the intimacy did with a screaming fight, an ultimatum and unanswered e-mails. Mr. Happy eventually drove me crazy with his lack of communication and the other guy proved himself to be a bit too much like me with his biting comments and unforgiving attitude.

Still though, I have some great memories, and others with different guys. And with friends. And family. And just myself.

So I've decided I'm not jealous of my friends' fiancees. And my feelings of inadequacy aren't coming from not having a boyfriend. I am a little jealous that my friends know enough about themselves to commit to being with another person for the rest of their lives. I'm often confused because I'm not sure how I feel about things, or don't know what I want the future to be like.

But maybe the uncertainty is what makes it fun right now. Maybe I'll throw rice and make toasts and let someone else catch the bouquet, smirking because I don't have to have all the answers yet.

I've got time.

EDIT: Keeping With the Theme

Rereading this post, it feels a little too positive. This is, after all, supposed to be eloquently cynical. So here's the coda, a poem I read recently by Dorothy Parker.

Unfortunate Coincidence

By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying --
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.