There he was, my pre-teen dreamboat, smirking a loose smile across the table from me. Never would I have envisioned sitting and carrying a conversation with the actual human from the posters on my childhood bedroom walls.
“So your friend’s getting married, huh? No way to talk her out of it?"
We ask for marriage equality, ignoring the other side of the coin. The more personal conversation to have actually starts with, “Why are you asking for marriage equality when you don’t even believe in marriage?”
They’ll then say they’re for marriage as an equal right. That they are not for marriage, that if you choose to bind yourself to an “eternal” partnership of misery, you should be free to make that choice.
You cannot ask for marriage equality without admitting you are still kindasortamaybe for marriage. You cannot kindasortamaybe be for marriage, or marriage as a right, without distinguishing that conversations about anything related to the topic of emotional intimacy can be very, very different. We may be speaking the same words, but the language is incomprehensible from one party to the next. From my side of the table to his.
Some people say they don’t believe in marriage. What’s the point, when everything points to the demise of stable families and the rise of broken homes, anyway?
I still believe in happy marriages. Even if I have been shown every reason not to.
We retreat back to our fear-ridden caves, spewing out excuses about divorce rates, fostered children, child molestors, and rapists. We talk about other issues, like race riots, the weather, and how nutrition in America is abysmal.
I may have a high tolerance for bullshit, but it doesn’t mean my sense of smell is dead.