Waiting my life away

“If we’re not engaged by New Years, I’ll pull the plug,” became “My birthday is the cutt-off,” which is now “FINE! I’ll wait forever…” Problem is I’m not great at waiting—especially when it’s a major life event. I don’t like to stay on the high ground and wait for the fight to come to me. I’d rather charge the battlefield and face the enemy sooner.

I didn’t like waiting to graduate.

I didn’t like waiting to start a career.

I hate waiting to buy a house.

And I despise waiting to be married.

The other day Joel asked if I would be okay with a less expensive ring.

“At this point I would take a RingPop,” I answered with 100% honesty.

So what’s the hold up? Although I’ll jump off a cliff if it looks like a good idea, Joel likes to think things all the way to their logical conclusions.

He repeatedly points out that we would not get approved for a home-loan because he has too much debt and he doesn’t have money saved up to afford a fancy wedding so I would be funding the whole gala and if we got engaged now “the romance of it would wear off” before we could get married. But he doesn’t realize DATING wore off two years ago…

Infuriating as it may be, his reasoning makes sense. But it’s embarrassing to explain why we’ve been together for so long—7 years and counting—but only now started to prepare for a future together. It’s partly my fault. The first 5 years I wasn’t sure what I wanted either. And I never considered I’d need a good credit score, minimal debt to income ratio, and pay-stubs to buy a house. Instead I marched along to the anthem of youth: All we need is love!

I was dooped. Joel was dooped. And now this whole situation is a doopy mess. (I don’t even know if doopy is a word but it’s perfect.) So now I’m as antsy as a cheetah in a Jeep Wrangler. Ever heard that metaphor before? It works like this: I see the ground where I want to run, but I’m being carried there by a slow, chunky box. Can’t this life-thing get to the good parts already?

Maybe that’s it.

Maybe I was dooped again, and maybe there’s no separation between the good parts and getting there. What if every moment I spend waiting for life to get better, I miss out on the joy of life now? It could be that these moments right now, moments spent waiting, are part of the good times.

But I’m waiting because of excuses. And if I use so many excuses now, eventually my life will be one big excuse. I won’t be able to do anything later because there is always a reason not to try now.

So do I keep waiting through the slow progress? I love him and we are both far from perfect. Or when will I have waited long enough? Do I move on, lose a large part of my life, and wait for who knows what (or how long)? Of course, God is silent on this. After all, the only biblical record of God telling someone to get married was when he told a prophet to marry a prostitute to learn how He feels loving the people of Israel…

I’m not in a rush to grow up (more). I just hate waiting.

And now I’m waiting for these to become the good old days…