The Institution of Marriage: Yeah, OK?

I'm sure the title looks misleading, possibly cynical—and maybe it is. Yet, at this period of my life, I have not made it to the infamous cornerstone of life's journey; Marriage. The old holy union between two lovers that had concluded that they want to do this thing call life together until death. The very thought of it, right now, makes me laugh. Gut-clutching laughter. That's pretty dark. It might be, however, looking at my life; I haven't had great examples of marriage. Along with being possibly on the end of what many married people seek; the adulteress. I can't help but crack the hell up.

Growing up, I didn't come from a family that held onto long unions... or even had unions at all. My father didn't marry my mother, but still had kids with her. I guess that's love. Over the years, my siblings and I watched my father take on other surrogate women figures to play "mom," but it wasn't until he had met a beautiful, mulatto woman named Harmony when I was a child—her beautiful smile, and her warm spirit I had to remember. All the while, my dad's eyes would later wander to another exotic woman. As a teen, I wasn't able to see eye to eye with his choice of the week. I was always arguing, and was constantly passive aggressive throughout the household. I couldn't grasp the idea that people would ACTUALLY want to spend time, all the time, with ONE person.

"Scarlett, when will you settle down?"

I'm now an adult, and when asked that question, I push the answer off in a sarcastic nature.

"Whenever someone sparks my interest."

I have spent my time looking at my many friends over the years who have now married, and while scrolling through their beautiful families, I sigh. Clicking on photos of a newborn, or even newly pregnant women, I think "Wasn't there a pull-out option?" A thought that passes often, occurring more often when I've finished having sex with men—men who have their physical commitment to eternal love on their ring fingers. It's funny that they aren't worried about the women that they had said—in front of friends, and family, and God—that they loved them. They show no concern about their partners when they walk into my home, throwing my body into an arch, while asking, "who's pussy is this?" I continue to scroll through the pictures, chuckling, and shaking my head. What a Joke.

While I look at my dad, and his now girlfriend of 20 years, they both haven't made it to that matrimony part of the relationship. What I feel; no, bliss has never been a synonym connected to their loving "union." The relationship was never built upon the idea that there was any "love" between them. Whatever hope I had trying to see a happy, married couple is now dead. Aspiring to find someone who will change that thought otherwise seems very far off. Listening to them both arguing, I find myself saying "I'll pass." Marriage... Commitment... Psh, Love; I'll avoid all that, and stick to what I know. Men only want pussy, and I only want an orgasm.

Is it fear of commitment? Fear of being not as "equally yoked" as my heart and head would like to believe? It's hard to tell when my family is what I've used as an example, while projecting the belief that the families that do look happy are living nothing but a lie. Skepticism runs rampant, yet I read a familiar text from a man, which affirms the triviality of the very belief in commitment to forever. It's comical at best.