But after three weeks, Adam knew things couldn’t stay that blissful.
Sitting quietly by my side, the doctor-to-be stated his prognosis: He said that though things might seem great, we believed differently, and ultimately, that would tear us apart.
Sure, we were both college-educated Americans, but the people in my community got married early — like, ring-by-senior-year-of-college early — and then proceeded to have three kids before Adam’s friends could finish their doctoral dissertations.
By 27, I had been to over 50 weddings, while Adam had been to one.
For the first week after we broke up, I was relieved, as were my parents.