Our photographer warned us that right up to the wedding, the arguments would get more intense. Eizwan and I laughed it off, because dude, we’ve been arguing since the day we met, I don’t see how much worse it can get.
I suppose, this is where I will advice readers to listen to their photographers (or not – depends on the advise really). Thing is, bridal magazines and blogs never cover this part. It’s whispered, it’s muttered that the experience of preparing for a wedding is a ‘make or break’ deal but I never realized how hard it would be.
If I’m being honest with myself, I’m terrified of getting married. I keep counting down, 87 days, 86 days, argh, in 16 days that would be 70 days, that really is no long. I’m terribly looking forward to seeing all my friends again but I’m so jittery for everything else.
I’m not romantic. Well, that’s not true. If you read my stories, I am very romantic – if you consider, death, murder, destruction with a little love thrown in as romance. My definition of romance was defined by Mrs Bach, 12th grade IB English HL and I never could seem to let it go. ‘Tragedy ends in death. Comedy ends in marriage. Fighting aliens, being Indiana Jones – that’s romance.’
But marriage? Romantic? No. Theoretically, it is. It’s spending your life together with your partner, going through the troughs and peaks of life with someone holding your hand.
The reality however, is so much more mundane. Marriage is about the little mundane details. About buying what brand of coffee to share in the morning – my personal choice is Tesco Finest, it’s way better than Nescafe Gold for instant and umm….Tesco Finest ground coffee for brewing because it’s way cheaper than Starbucks…about switching off the lights before you leave the room, about the food you cook at home.
What I’m trying to say in a roundabout way, a lot about marriage has to do with money. As a Finance girl myself, money is hard, money is tough to look and to work through. Hey, even Suze Orman says so.
And lately, a chunk of our fights has been about money. Not so much on what we’re spending on the wedding, because that has been cut down tremendously with skill – *looks smugly at budget* – but on our after married lives. It’s realizing how much we’ve depended on our parents for so long that standing on your own two feet is expensive. It’s about giving and taking, compromising on what material goods makes one person happy but not the other not. It’s about giving up luxuries that we take for granted all our lives, to start from scratch all over.
I’m very particular about money and finances. And I know marriage and money, sometimes these two are no mixy. It means being very honest about everything, taking our long-held values, myths about money and laying it open. I hate debt with a passion – I don’t believe in monthly installments while Eizwan thinks it’s no biggie. Eizwan is pro-part time work while I prefer to concentrate on my writing instead of earning extra. We both prefer to focus on building skills instead of chasing money – although that option, ironically in Malaysia, is starting to be a luxury. It’s more affordable to be a generalist than a specialist here.
All these adds up to the end of the month – does internet mean luxury? Or is it a necessity? What about washing machines? Should we buy one or should we do our laundry at our parents till we afford a washing machine? Does this mean we’re not being independent? Eizwan’s parents are adamant that we ought to be as independent from them as possible while my parents are cheerful about letting us use the oven to cook if the need arises.
The more we discuss finances in detail, the more scary it becomes and the more terrifying the future seems. So you have pictures of married looking into the distance or sunset, metaphorically looking at a glorious future. My vision of marriage at this point, is a lot more like that ride in Alton Towers, where they tilt you forward right before tossing you down into a deep and dark chasm.
Is there a way out of this? I don’t know. And it terrifies me. I’m doing all the right steps, following my Suze Orman guide, I’m watching our bank balance. At the back of my head, I know we’ll be okay but the journey there. It’s sure damned perilous.
85 days and counting.