I still do, sweetie. Happy anniversary.
I wrote this piece before the wedding, and we put it into our wedding program. I’m reprinting it here today.
It Isn’t Like That
by Greta Christina
“My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…”
-William Shakespeare, Sonnet 130
She is not the sun and the moon and the stars, and she is definitely not my sole reason for living. I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night for many reasons, of which her existence is only one. She is not all I can think about; I spend time thinking about work, and friends, and what to have for dinner, without too terribly much trouble. I don’t feel the earth move or the sky fall, although I do feel a bit like I’ve been conked on the head by a giant vaudeville rubber mallet. I can talk to other people when she’s around, and I can keep my hands off her if I have to. I don’t feel that every minute spent without her is wasted, and there is at least some sunshine when she’s gone. I do not believe we were destined to meet, or that my life would be empty, or hollow, or even incomplete, without her. And her eyes, while large and lovely and the color of the ocean on a dark day, are, in fact, nothing like the sun, except in that they are big and round and bright. It isn’t like that.
It’s just that I grin and giggle and blush when I think of her, and sulk when she’s far away. It’s just that I feel a cold terrified rage at the thought that anyone, myself included, might hurt her. It’s just that I feel brave when I’m with her; not brave enough to slay dragons, but brave enough to feel what I feel and say what’s on my mind, which for me is plenty brave. It’s just that she knows what I mean, and I know what she means; not always, not as if we were soul-sisters or psychically linked, but enough, and much more than enough. It’s just that so many of the things that are good about her are things that are good about myself, things I would be happy to have grow stronger from being in her presence. It’s just that there isn’t anyone else, not even gorgeous movie stars, that I’d rather have in my bed. It’s just that a part of me that is hard and cool and distant, a part I rely on but don’t much care for, turns into oatmeal when I think about her. It’s just that I feel that my life is not entirely in my own hands, and, rather uncharacteristically, am not feeling that this is a problem. It’s just that she’s smart and funny and thoughtful and cheerful and playful and good and sexy and beautiful, and it feels like a miracle — not a huge miracle, just a small one — that she seems to see me the same way.
I like it this way better. Much.
One of the things that the equal marriage fight brought was some interesting ideas about the separation between legal marriage and ceremonial marriage. I know cishet couples who separated these ceremonies for practical reasons (getting a legal marriage license long before their real ceremony so one could get health insurance for example) and queer couples who did what you and Ingrid did, which was similar to myself and my ex-wife. I also know straight and same gender couples (including cis people, trans people, or a mix of the two) who still today separate these ceremonies even though marriages are legal for them for practical reasons. I don’t have a marriage license yet with my spouse of 2 years because we’re waiting until graduation so that marriage doesn’t make me ineligible for financial aid in college.
It has also opened up ideas about non-legal marriage for people with disabilities who’s benefits would suffer if they got legally married, and polyamorous people who cannot legally marry more than one spouse but do so through awesome ceremonies with friends and/or family.
This has been a silver lining of the battle over marriage – we all have had the opportunity to redefine it in our own ways. We have found ways of celebrating love in the face of opposition, and it has made many of us, and our relationships, stronger. I’m grateful for that.
Happy anniversary. I wish you and Ingrid many returns of love and celebration. I hope the lessons of queering marriage remain in our culture despite the decreasing barriers to marriage equality.
I think I’d like that a lot better too. Congratulations, and I hope you have many more tens of happy years together.
I love that you used more-or-less the same colors that my late wife and I did in our commitment ceremony. I still have the silk shirt I made for her in that rich green (she wasn’t a skirt-wearing kinda gal). We used to joke that among our friends we held the record of four consecutive wedding-ish ceremonies with nary a divorce. The county did send us a refund for the marriage license after the court ruled that it hadn’t been issued legally, but we kept the piece of paper anyway and went straight on to be among the first registered domestic partners in the county instead.
Congrats to you two, and many happy returns.
Happy anniversary.
Congratulations to the two of you! (I feel the same way about my Hunny!)
Happy merry to you both, and may there be many MANY more years of happy merry!
Oh…congratulations! Still seeking my mallet out there…
That was beautiful.
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It reminds me of this xkcd comic:
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https://xkcd.com/968/
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“You are not the light of my life. Making you happy isn’t my greatest dream. Your smile is not all I live for. I’ve got my own stuff going on. But you’re strange and fascinating and I’ve never met anyone like you. I want to give you everything, just to see what you’d DO with it.”