Safe For The Time Being

So, we can all agree that I can be an idiot at times. Not only that, but half of the stuff that comes out of my mouth is meant in jest, if not complete and utter crap. Now that I've prefaced the story by reminding you that I can be an idiot at times! and half of the stuff that comes out of my mouth is meant in jest!, I feel I can continue...

There's this guy that I've always known was meant for me in every way. He's my Perfect Guy, the guy I compare all other guys to. Why am I not with this guy, you ask? Well, when I said he was perfect for me in every way, I may have been exaggerating. When I had the opportunity to snatch him up, there was a slight problem. Okay, a make-or-break problem. He's conservative—and in all the wrong ways. I always told myself, and anyone who would listen, that if he became more liberal, I would marry him in a heartbeat. And I have been saying this for years and years...

Well, before the election my Perfect Guy announced that he wasn't sure who he was voting for. I was drinking a glass of water at the time and when the words "not sure" hit me, the water exploded from my lips in a fountain of shocked little droplets. ...Or at least that's how I imagine it would have gone, had I been drinking a glass of water. Anyway, you get how unexpected it was. So, I found out about his uncertainty and I immediately told one of my best friends (who has heard me say thousands of times how I would marry him if he became more liberal). And I, being the idiot that I am, said to her, "If he votes for Obama, I'll propose!" She laughed, told me that if he voted for Obama, she'd drive me there herself and then we just kind of let it go.

A little while later I met up with a friend I hadn't seen in a while and I told her this story because I thought it would amuse her, as it was a joke. She looked me straight in the face and said, "Kendra, you've been saying this for years and years, but this time I'm holding you to it. If he votes for Obama, you have until New Year's to propose or else I'm doing it for you." I protested, insisting it was a joke, but it was all for naught. Apparently, the bet was on.

Now, here I am telling you this story on November 10. The election was decided almost exactly 5 days ago. My fate has been decided: will I or won't I have to do the most embaressing thing I could ever imagine? Have I avoided all possible ways of knowing who my he voted for? Yes. But why? It's over and done with; there's nothing I can do about it now. Why would I put it off? He probably didn't even vote for Obama, so why am I so worried?

Unfortunately, there is always truth in jest. I've always pictured myself growing up, getting married, having kids, and growing old with my husband. It's a normal thing to do. However, the husband I get married to, the father of my children, the man I grow old with—it's always him, my Perfect Guy. Now, here I am on the brink of possibly having to propose to him, the father of my imaginary children. I'm terrified. I can't think, can't move. What if I don't have to propose? It would be a relief, but at the same time disappointing. And what if I do have to? What if he laughed in my face? Him! The father of my imaginary children! Laughing in my face when I propose to him! I don't think I could take it. Every single fantasy I've ever had about marriage, kids, companionship, would be obliterated. Gone forever. Never to return...

So, I choose to live in the dark. When the time comes I'll find out—I'll have to. But until then, ignorance is bliss...