Modern fairytale? I think not.

Once upon a time, a girl I grew up with, and a boy the Dude grew up with, met, fell in love, and became engaged. It was like a modern fairy tale- she, just out of a long, hard relationship with a boy who cheated on her, abused her, and ultimately left her for the younger, skinnier variety of girl, was swept up in her vulnerable state by the sweet, hard-working man she'd previously only considered to be a friend...

... then today after the Dude and I waddled home (after a delightful and excessive perch dinner!), Mother Dude descended on us: "Have you heard? Is it true?" Evidently, the sweet, hard-working man isn't what the girl really wanted. It seems she'd left him for a boy not unlike the one she wanted to forget in the first place.

After I heard the rumour (and confirmed it, of course, on facebook), I had to purse my lips- in all honesty, I saw it coming. He was (from what I had heard) extremely inexperienced, and she was on the rebound.

During the quiet drive as the Dude was bringing me back to Das Haus, it suddenly hit me: I can count on two hands (and all ten toes) the number of people I know who are either currently engaged, have been engaged, are married, or (in one girl's case) have been married at one point- all before they are 25. And I wonder, what's the rush? We're in our early twenties, and it still feels like we're teenagers, so eager to grow up. In a world where we're finishing high school in five years, university in four, college for three years after that, and we still don't know what we want to do with our lives, are we really qualified to make this commitment?

I hate to admit that I almost fell under that spell- it's a little exhilarating, feeling like you've found that Romeo, the one that you want to spend the rest of your life with. Sometimes these days even, I find myself with a twinge of jealousy whenever I see a former classmate's engagement ring. But I digress... I learned from my past mistakes (as did my formerly married friend, who is looking for an apartment for herself and her daughter, where her boyfriend can visit a couple times a week).

There have even been a handful of evenings when, after a couple glasses of wine, the Dude and I broached the subject of moving in together, but really... why would I do that? At this moment, I don't even want a room mate, let alone a boyfriend sharing my bed space (and closet space). I like the silence, the option of tuning the world out, enjoying a glass of wine and a book by yourself. To me, a ring doesn't bring instant maturity (or happiness)- paying the bills on my own does (having the bed to myself doesn't hurt either.)

Maybe in ten years, after I've done the college thing, gained a career, accomplished some of my life goals, experienced life on my own, I'll think about moving the Dude into my home.

As long as I find a place with a bigger closet, that is.