Together Forever

Amy read my palm today and said I would be rich. Woo hoo. I was so rich that she could see the lines on my hand all the way from the other end of the room. And then she said I would marry late, which of course induced a scream that shattered Debbie's right ear drum because she was sitting next to me.

"Woman! Next time give warning can??!!"

I suppose it makes sense that I would probably be so busy working my ass off the next 10 years or so amassing my fortune that I wouldn't have time for relationships. It certainly seems that way now. I asked Amy what the definition of late was and she said probably around 36.

Meh.. 36? I can live with that. I think. Why do people get married? Companionship? So they won't die alone? What if your partner dies first? That would really suck. When my uncle passed away, I went for the funeral and noticed his bedroom all neat and tidy. Then I looked at my aunt, clearly distraught and my first thought was wondering how difficult it was going to be to spend that first night without him by her side. When you've been with someone for so long and then they die, how do you cope?

Already the 20 somethings like myself are lamenting on a daily basis about how hard it is to get over someone after a break up. That's the thing. Usually when people break up, it means that someone leaves. But sometimes, leaving means dying and then the loss of your partner is something different altogether.

When we went for that anniversary party, Debbie didin't know what to write in the card. Trying to be helpful, I suggested the following greeting.

Dear Uncle Martin & Auntie Christine, happy anniversary! Hope you die together so you never have to be apart. Love, Debbie.

That only encouraged the strangest of strange stares at my direction and I got screamed at for being morbid. What? It's kinda sweet in a weird sort of way. Right? I mean, you wouldn't want to live without each other right?

Maybe the romance in my soul is dead and in its place, cynicism and bitterness prevails. Or maybe I'm just jealous. Oh well. Amy's prediction of me marrying at 36 actually fits in nicely with the plans that Tara and I actually had of starting our own art house. So I guess everybody wins. In a sad, weird, morbid kind of way.