Me making you cry makes me cry

When my dad was in town, he said, “Your blog’s morphed from a pregnancy blog to a marriage one.”

That’s what happens when getting pregnant sends you to the alter.

It’s probably also just what happens when you get married. It takes over you life for a wee bit. Though I can testify that my wee bit is becoming wee-er. Before I get off my marriage horse, though, I’d like to make one more matrimony point:

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Getting married is kinda like Ryan Gosling. Or puppies (for more tortured bliss, go here.)

In that it actually forces you into a pouty near-tears face in which you say again and again, “Oh! That’s so sweet.”

I’ve decided, in fact, that the historical reason for marriage was not a means for men to claim women as their property, but rather a quick way of making all the lonely people of the world feel loved. And not by their spouse, though of course that’s a plus, but by all their friends, family, and even the strangers who read their blogs.

It’s as if rather than watching Pretty in Pink you are suddenly Julia Roberts. And people actually cry because they are so happy for you.

This doesn’t happen when you go to grad school. Or when you get published. Or when you successfully compete in a triathlon after training all year.

It happens when you get married in your partner’s brother’s living room before an alter made out of two-by-fours and Christmas lights and then go to a local pub for your reception. When your parents give you Bride and Bride ball caps. And your honeymoon is coffee in bed the next morning.

It also happens because people really love you all that time. They think about you all the time, just like you think about them all the time, and marriage is an excuse, I now believe, to let those feelings out. Which means we really should invent a psuedo-marriage that is not marriage so that everyone can feel this celebrated. We’ll call it Ryan-Goslinged. And if you decide not to get married, at some point you can send out emails or blog posts about your plans to Ryan-Gosling yourself. Or Puppy yourself.

And then we’ll all write and tell you how happy we are for you. We’ll send you flowers. And cards. And we’ll cry and tell you we love you. Because we do.

And, now, the long-anticipated wedding album, courtesy of my digital dad. A bilingual subtitled video is to come, but that will take a few weeks.

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4 thoughts on “Me making you cry makes me cry

  1. The key thing is to imagine you’re in the state you’re in, even if you’re not. For my 50th birthday party–getting back to me–I set the date, made a list of guests, selected the refreshments, figured out the decorations, and imagined the lovely toasts–and then after getting all teary over being so appreciated, I figured I’d had the party, so I cancelled it, which was fine because the nonparty was much more satisfying than the actual one would have been. I think I shared this story once before with you, but hey.. Great pictures. Have fun!

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  2. Pingback: The year of paper! | This Queer Familia

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