On Marrying

It began simply- an e-mail, short and to the point.  In that way she began to exist on the fringes of my mind.  We exchanged polite messages, sending them through cyberspace.  Soon those inquiries evolved into more intimate wonderings.  “Do you want children some day?”  “What do you think, as a teacher, about the hypocrisy in our education system?” 

The day we met in person, she also, solidly, arrived into my life.  Daily, we continued to write to one another.  Short “have a great day” notes to lengthy “getting to know you MORE” essays.  I would rush home from work, or a night out, to check my inbox.  My day never felt complete unless I had read a few of her words, or heard her voice.

How I loved her voice.  We’d sit on the phone for hours, using up our prepaid phone cards from 7-11.  I would lay on the floor of my apartment and the tedium of my day would fade away with her words. 

I began to love her.

The years flew by. 

She saw me at my best and my most ugly.  And she loved me.  She told me that very soon after we started dating and it scared me.  I responded with, “I can’t say that, yet.”  Even though, inside, I knew it to be true.  I was so worried about protecting myself, about being responsible and cautious, that I made her wait for the feelings that were already there.

We talked about getting married, about standing in front of our family and friends so that they could witness our promises of commitment.  But there never seemed to be enough time, enough money, enough reason to do something that wouldn’t even be legally recognized. 

Why did we want to get married?  What would change between us?  Would a piece of paper make us love each other more?

Sometimes she makes fun of me, how I “love” everyone.  And I want to explain to her what that means.  I love my friends in the most simple definition of the word.  I care about them and they matter to my life.  With Rebeca, I love her in the most complex sort of way.  Every decision I make, every plan I create, she is a part of.  Everything that affects her, touches me.  And vice versa.  There is no Me, or even a We, anymore. We’re an “US” with a capital U that now includes two little girls.  If there was a word that meant more than “love” I would use that. 

And now, 12 years later, we still aren’t married.  We have two children, a mortgage and many bills to pay.  But we don’t have a piece of paper that says that we belong to one another.   

I still want that. 

I want people to know that we have chosen to be responsible for each other.  I want to experience Every Day, with her.  I want it to be her hand that I’m holding when I leave this life.  Along with being in love, we are our best when we’re together. 

What better reason to get married than that?