Willing the Future

My roommate drove by her ex-boyfriend’s new apartment for the first time the other night to drop off a mutual friend and felt the pain of a decision she had made six months earlier. A decision to end the relationship because she new she wanted a marriage and a family that he didn’t envision. Put simply at least. I picture the window she looked up into from the street, a window covering the entire front of the apartment, six feet high and not broken down into smaller panes. A window like a movie-screen or huge flat panel, showing I don’t know which, the stories of those passing in cars below or the stories of the three young men on the inside. I know this window well because my boyfriend also lives inside. My boyfriend lives with her ex-boyfriend, which is how I know lovely Anna in the first place. I hope that we have a different story unfolding. So far this is true as we have dated for over a year and a half, long distance almost half that time and have never broken up. A bit of my stick-to-it-ness is motivated by something I read in Linda Goodman’s Book of Sun Signs as I lay on his yellow velvet couch in his parent’s stifling hot Texas garage just after we had moved his stuff home from college after graduation. I read that the male Virgo is not showering in his love, but is steady and if love is broken off, he will make himself forget about it and there will be no second chance. Just recently we had a long conversation, few words actually spoken, that might in other relationships have led to a break-up, but instead, I think, has strengthened ours. I just read an article in Vogue about a woman who saw a picture of a coat in Vogue in high school and wanted to buy the coat for the woman it represented she would become. I understand this concept. I have no idea what I will become. I feel like I am dealing with my twenties somewhat passively, figuring it out as one thing haphazardly leads to the next. I have always felt that I will do something big and wonderful, but fear that now I’ve gotten too slow a start. Wonder how it’s happened that I’ve waited tables, now work retail, and volunteered 400 hours in an internship and still didn’t get a job.