Today Mark and I spent an hour with a solicitor signing papers, and that left such a bad taste in my mouth that I went home to shower and listen to some uplifting music. Thing is, dad once suggested that Mark and I get a prenuptial agreement, and Mark latched onto that right away, and insisted that we go. We were supposed to do this ages ago, but we didn’t until today.
So, in the eventuality that things go wrong in a few years time, and we split up, my stupid money is safe in the bank. Whatever is added to it after we get married is mine, and only mine. And of course, what is already there is mine alone.
The rational grown-up part of me thinks that it is wise. Maybe there will be a future where we will fall out so badly that it’s unbelievable now, and maybe there will be a time when my feelings are completely reversed. Maybe then I would appreciate this day, and the “wisdom of it”. But I also think it’s like building in a fail-device. The romantic in me thinks that we’re being crass and defeatist.
Mark of course is of the opinion that whatever we do together is ours. He thinks that whatever we’ll have only will have worth if we do it together.
What is done is done, I suppose. What don’t we do to keep the peace, eh? What don’t we do to keep the little comforts away from danger so that when it matters you have an easy way out instead of staying and fighting for that which is right and proper? I think I need another shower.
***
The mind and expectation can be a prison. It can be as much of a prison as a bunker with iron bars across the windows and a huge padlock on the door. You can sit down in the bunker and think that you’re fine, that you’re safe, that you’re living the good life. But it’s still a prison, for which you have been conditioned.
I like Plato’s the allegory of the cave. I’m not arrogant enough to think that I’m the one who was released, and who has been allowed to walk around outside the cave to see the real colours, the real shapes, the real life. But I think the allegory is true, and the people in the mental prison of expectation and habit are the people who sit staring at the shadows on the cave wall thinking that all there is. At least, I permit myself to think, I know it’s just shadows.
The chief architect of our prison is ourselves, and our fears. Next to me on the cork-board we have, there’s a print-out of a rhyme from Frank Herbert’s “Dune”. The shallow interpretation says that it is a ward, and incantation, to stop myself from falling back into what I was when I was twelve: a delinquent, angry and hostile loud-mouth that masked a deep fear with attitude and aggression. Personal history I haven’t told, because I’m ashamed of it and because I want that part of my life to be over, says that
But, I think that over the years it has acquired a whole new meaning. It is a meaning that can be applied to a wider chunk of life in order to prevent the mental prison of habit and conditioning. Why am I over-thinking all the time? To second-guess myself so I don’t become again what I nearly was. Why am I obsessing over details? Because of this.
And in an ironic twist, I’ve constructed a mental prison of over-thinking and reasoning that often prevent me doing things, and which I have to push myself to overcome: become a singer, go to England, marry at eighteen. I’ve spent so much time thinking of reason not to do any of those things, laying awake at night chasing the slippery tails of the thoughts to no end. It’s time to break out and do, not just think. It’s time, once again, to stumble into the light, out of the cave.
I understand your misgivings completely Colin. No romanticism in that paper at all. OTOH, I have seen quite a few things over my too many years turn out to be ‘that should have been obvious’ long after the earlier disbelief of ‘it could never happen’. That said, I strongly hope that things will never come to that. And if the idea of the paper continues to nag at a deep crevice somewhere in the recesses of your complex psyche, you can always use the protected resources for your mutual benefit and enjoyment.
I can only point below where I answered this more fully. You’ll have to share replies. 🙂
It is interesting how different perspectives can be. You see marriage as a romantic affirmation that you intend to spend your lives together and I see it as a legacy of the past designed to cement two people together in law. That cementing is supposed to be as tight as the pre-nuptial contract you signed and in its original terms it states “Til death us do part”. Thus marriage itself was a practical consideration designed to prevent the relationship from legally dissolving despite the fact that sometimes people grow apart and relationships naturally and mutually come to an end. Of course, that end would be a disaster if the relationship in question cemented an important political alliance and thus the precaution of marriage.
With divorce making marriage somewhat more symbolic my personal opinion is that the institute of marriage is unnecessary and in fact applies unnatural pressure on a relationship that may actually be more harmful than it is beneficial.
While the above is critical of the institution of marriage I wish you every happiness together. No matter how cynical I may seem I do glory in the concept of romance and the idea of two people coming together to make a greater whole than the sum of its parts.
All the best,
Skimble
I don’t think for once second that a marriage is for life. My own parents are divorced, so I have direct experience about the truth of the lie of “marriage till death do us part”. Mark and I have actually addressed this head on, and neither of us believes that anything lasts forever. What I hope for is that if we break up, it will be as amicable as my parents’ divorce.
But we are two monogamous pooftahs that share a set of beliefs about being together, and from a legal standpoint it makes much more sense – realistically – to be married than to be apart. I mean, for instance, Mark has asthma. What if he gets really ill from it? Unless we’re married, it’s not assured that I would get visitation rights in a hospital. That’s just an example off the top of my head. There are much more boring and mundane reasons to be married, because that is the status that the laws are built around through successive generations.
And finally, and more importantly, if one does not commit fully, why commit at all? This pre-nup thing appears to be so much hedging ones bets. I go along with it, but it doesn’t sit that well with me.
I don’t think a prenup is a bad thing. Chances are that it will not arise again in your life and you can now put it to bed. You seem very much in love and that’s the truly important thing. My boyfriend and I were just discussing earlier who would get the Mariah CDs if we ever split. Of equal importance, of course. :0)
I have to ask. Is it Mariah Carey? In that case, I’m sorry, but then I have to revoke your LGBT license. xD Or you should let him have it. Cat screeching in his post-relationship with you is probably suitable. 🙂
Haha, I think we any have to fall out.
I am a hopeless romantic at heart and still count the day my ex broke up with me as the saddest day of my life – and I have had a LOT of sad days. Still, looking back, every day of our seven years together was worth it and his status as my best friend now somehow eases the painful memory. That being said, I have faith in your relationship with Mark and hope you can rid your mouth of the bad taste this day has given it.
Fear can be a crippling, horrible thing- but don’t forget where it comes from in an evolutionary sense. It’s about self-preservation. That being said I don’t regret my rather reckless past. You’re 18, give yourself a break. A few mistakes along the way are to be expected.
…and, do let go of the fears, but not of your self-awareness and self-criticism. That’s one of the things that impresses me about you. I’m often appalled at people who think that what they do merits (demands?) praise when in fact it’s mediocre. I’m sure you’ve read enough blogs by alleged authors/artists/thinkers, whose output doesn’t quite measure up in the real world. I wouldn’t name names because I’m not ‘that’ cruel, but there’s an alleged writer of the American variety that’s a perfect example. Remember paint by numbers? That’s the pictorial version of what she does. No real story, interest, creativity or even communication. Just a formula. She’ll describe her vacation somewhere in a very competent way, there might even be a funny line, but by the time you’ve finished, you discover you’ve just wasted 20 minutes of your time because nothing she said has had any impact on you whatsoever. Don’t become one of those!