At some point in our lives, we will be confronted with some big choices, and marriage is one of them. When I was 27, I stood at the crossroads of marriage with a lot of anticipation and apprehension. In the eyes of many people, including my dear mother, 27 seemed to be an age when "it would be lucky enough to marry any man". What's more, the man who asked me to marry him was, in today's vogue, a typical "premium gray".
He had told me that since I was 16, he had silently regarded me as his future mate first in his heart. 11 years later, I finally accepted his heartfelt intention. A 27-year-old woman, in the face of marriage, a major event in life, should no longer take it as a teenage fantasy and longing, but need to calmly use her fingers to calculate and her brain to weigh.
During that time between 11 and 27, I often lay in bed at night, counting on my fingers and silently calculating: two comfortable houses, two convenient cars, a steady annual income of $300,000, coupled with his unconditional love for me. Together, are these elements equal to the happiness I pursue?
When he asked me if I could bring my family register and unit certificate with him one day to go through the marriage procedure, I nodded with little hesitation. Perhaps this is what I was anticipating deep in my heart: a partner to spend the rest of my life with, a future where happiness can be created together.
Standing at the door of my marriage, I felt fear and anticipation like never before. But when I looked at him and saw the determination and deep love in his eyes, I knew that I was ready for this new journey of life.
