Tomorrow I’m getting married one month shy of my 40th birthday. Getting married is an event I never really thought would occur in my life, nor actively sought. I don’t think you need to get married to somebody to be partners for life and I’ll never be one of those people who pesters their single friends to settle down. I think everyone should live the life that makes them happiest, period. Some people do best as lone wolves, crossing the prairie on their own, hunting when it suits them, enjoying their time and space as their own.
That said, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how calm and happy the engagement process has been for Jen and I. Lots and lots of planning when it comes to the wedding, but that I expected. People have asked me if I’m nervous. I’m not, really, just a calm buzz in the back of my mind, along with some sorrow when I think about my mother and other loved ones who are no longer alive.
A lot of this happy calmness has to do with Jen, who is great, but I also credit the mellowing and experience of age. Almost forty is a fun time to get married, I think, because you have this entire of life of people to include now, this history of ups and downs. Also, I’ve already slain my greatest dragon, getting a novel published, five times over. I’m not a rich, best selling author, but that’s never really what I really wanted (would be a nice perk though). I just wanted a decent number of people to read my work, for the dreams in my head to be put down on paper. And I have accomplished that, and will hopefully do so some more before I die.
I just feel lucky, overall. Lucky to have found Jen, lucky to still be writing novels, lucky to be alive.