I think it’s possible for the very same person to be “the marrying type” and “a commitment-phobe”.
For instance, I moved across the continent for some girl when I was nineteen, married her at twenty-one, and didn’t blink when we found out Erin would be making her presence known.
But for the life of me, I can’t commit to bringing the free yellow pages in off the stoop. I walk past it at least twice every day and can neither bring it to the recycling with me, nor pick it up and put it next to the phone.
It’s too much pressure.