Some say eighteen is too young to be engaged. Mostly, I’d agree unless you were engaged to that person that absolutely sets your life on fire in the best way. But I’m not engaged to the person who sets my world on fire. I’m engaged to my best friend and not because we’re in love or anything, but because our families decided we would marry probably the day we were born. We’ve basically been betrothed our entire lives.
I’m an artist, a dreamer if there ever was one. My fiancé is more of a realist, the practical person in our friendship. We complement each other well enough, I guess. I love him like family. I suppose there are worse foundations on which to build a marriage. But still, I dream of having an epic love affair, like in classical novels. Or really any romance novels. I dream of finding a man I love enough to tear down my world and run away with him. But those are just dreams, and I’ve been around Christian long enough to know that dreams don’t always come true. The world is not a romance novel, and sometimes our lives are planned out for us from the day we’re born. No amount of dreaming can change that.