"I want to get married." I sound like an 8-year-old girl asking for a pony. Which is kind of the same thing.
|Unmarried, in love.|
So, even though we're both wearing "wedding rings" that we bought together at the incense-singed new-age shop, marriage to each other had never seriously come up.
"You what?" Chris laughs, "Married?"
"Yeah, I want to be married to you." I grin shyly, realizing what a bold statement I had made.
"I thought we hated marriage?" He tests.
"I changed my mind," I decide, figuring it out as I go along.
We go to bed, or pass out, shortly after that and don't talk about it till I come home from work the next day. We finish doing something in the bedroom (oh, I can't remember what) and Chris says, "We should do it!"
Intrigued, but not totally in-the-know, I say, "Yeah? What?"
"Really?" I retreat inward. Do I really want to deal with the marriage/divorce red tape again? Asking my parents to come to another wedding? PLANNING another wedding?
"Yeah, let's think about it," I say, or something equally as tepid.
The next weekend, both back on the couch, Chris confesses that I'd hurt his feelings.
"I asked you to marry me the other day, and you shut me down."
Say, WHAT? I don't know if I'm more shocked or bugged. So I say, "I had no idea! There was no proposal, no ring..." Hint, hint.
"Yeah, I was asking you for real," he says.
Hint denied. So I offer, "Well, ask me again. Not now, but sometime soon."
A few hours later, I am dying to get out of the house, so I suggest we head to Red Butte Garden with a bottle of wine to watch the sunset. We walk, hand in hand, among the exotic looking ferns, and perky flowers - the aroma of fresh-misted rose water in the air. We duck into a cove with a bench and table, and tuck into our bottle of wine. The sun starts to set, and we're nuzzled into each other.
"Will you marry me?" he lists, as he looks into my eyes.
Without taking another breath, I say, "Yes."
Caught up in the moment, I don't even notice there's still no ring. The following day, I suggest that we start looking for some. We buy a couple of $100 rings and slide them nonchalantly onto our ring fingers, replacing the "wedding rings" made of hippie stones and silver. We get our marriage license a few months after that, and dream up a buddhist temple wedding in Thailand. We hurry and make it legal before we leave by having my mom drop by our apartment with our two witnesses (2 out of my four siblings) officiate a ceremony. We're still a little gunshy about letting our friends and coworkers know about our shotgun romance (some were just finding out we were divorced), so we wait a few days...dodging the obvious glances to our ring fingers and references to our giddy glow. It becomes to much to keep in, so the following weekend, we change our Facebook statuses to "married" and post a few photos. People react the same way I did when Chris first "asked" me to marry him. They are so shocked, they're almost pissed! My family is ACTUALLY pissed, because they interpret our living room "Wedding" as the real deal that only three of my family members were invited to.
|An apartment wedding.|
We never had the "talk" about marriage, babies or picket fences. We didn't have a "normal" proposal, and definitely didn't have a normal wedding. But we've loved with our whole hearts; been vulnerable, open and at many times, stubborn. We've accepted each other's dark parts because the light ones are so damn bright. We accept each other completely, and grow more patient and kind every day. I still get butterflies when 10 pm hits and I know he'll be home soon, and he still texts me love letters when we're apart. Not much about our love story has been typical, and I hope our glorious future together sings that same, offbeat tune. Because it's so effing beautiful.
|A Buddhist wedding.|