by Xen

Created on: June 28, 2008

In my early adolescence, I took to jokingly asking girls to marry me. I was odd enough that I largely got away with this histrionic gesture, until a girlfriend when I was fifteen or so decided that I was remotely serious. She just wanted someone to swear to love her forever, having learned to mistrust those who were required to owing to biology. Having to not so politely remind this girl that minors could not make binding contracts convinced me never to use these words again until I absolutely meant them.

I was a minor still when I next thought about marriage. I was dating my best friend Jen, after years of pursuing her to little effect. I was enveloped in love and gave her my virginity with only a few dozen second thoughts. Though I wasn't about to set a timetable for it, I passively assumed that I might one day marry her. I was seventeen, so what did I really know of compatibility in the long run? It had taken six months of my kisses and caresses before she would grudgingly acknowledge that she might love me, so how could I imagine her committing to loving me forever?

With Kate, my girlfriend after Jen cheated on and left me for our friend Nick, I don't recall thinking of marriage, passively or otherwise. I was content to be with her, when things averaged out (in that I was usually completely wrapped up in the idea and action of loving her and occasionally tearing my hair out because I felt hormonally miserable). I know I get along marvelously with Kate now and think any man who convinces her to marry him is going to be astoundingly lucky, but our college selves were still too busy trying to hammer out the bases of adult love.

Of course I thought I would marry Emily, because I was months away from doing so when she left. In many ways, I feel I had, not the least of which because I proposed to and handfasted her. After seven years of being together, I was more than ready for the eyes of the law to consider us a family, but she was not. That she declined almost didn't matter, because I was ready to be married.

As should be no particular surprise, I am now phenomenally jealous when others get married. My eyes have transcended merely being green with envy and are now emeralds, faceted and sparkling. I want to be married, I want to have my wedding. I lament that this did not occur as it was supposed to, though I am understandably grateful that it did not once Emily could no longer be a part of it. I want a wedding, I do not want a divorce. I want marital bliss and

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