Last year it was everyone. This year it’s everyone else. Sending congratulations never felt so disingenuous. It’s not that I particularly want to get married, but I’d like to think that I am not only capable of love, but also capable of the kind of love that would overwhelm someone with excitement. Sometimes I wonder if this is happening to me, because I am afraid of overwhelming others. Because I was raised to believe that I was too much to handle. Even as a valedictorian shy kid around town. Or maybe I choose the wrong people. Maybe my first love was too overwhelming for the both of us at such a young age. We were the Romeo and Juliet story. Except neither of us died. Maybe we are both making the same decisions over fear of overwhelming the people we love. Or maybe I’m making this truth about someone I haven’t spoken to in years, in my head, just so that I feel less alone.
I’ve been finding myself searching for anyone who would make me feel less alone. Anyone that has ever given me emotional intimacy I am running to. I want more of that. I want to see if that well has run dry, I want to feel. I want to know that I am loved for more than my body or the witty things I say. Not because I am easy going and whole, but because I am extraordinary. I want to feel extraordinary. It’s not that I don’t know that I am. It would just be nice to feel that someone has found me and didn’t need to think too hard before choosing me. Am I too good to be true or am I just not good enough?
A former friend had this logic that because neither of us felt whole in our families growing up, marriage was something that we particularly needed. That it would make us feel special and wanted. But then again, that feeling only happens when you are swept off your feet. Not if you decide to get married after almost a decade of being together. After all of these feelings of intimacy have swarmed in your head. After every upward next step into the relationship felt like a one-sided fight. What’s so special about something that took so much conversation and caution to happen when neither party believe in the ideologies of marriage on paper? I don’t want it anymore! I may be convincing myself that I don’t want the thing I want, because deep down I feel as if I’ll never get it. But regardless it’s happened. I don’t want it anymore! What I want is grand gestures that show me that I am without a question extraordinary in my partner’s eyes even if romance is not their forte. Romance is just a beautiful synchronicity. It’s when love, planning, intimacy and attentiveness come together. Am I not worth the effort?
In the past year I have surrounded myself with artists. Artists in their late 20’s and early 30’s that love hard, but have also settled down for the most part. With them I get my daily source of magic. I see it; I feel it and KNOW it exists. We are all extraordinary. We all know it. We wouldn’t be able to do our jobs otherwise. However, seeing the way in which we make sure to show the others that we see it too is something that makes my heart swell up. It’s intimate, attentive, loving and the words and gestures are planned so carefully. We are all creators of magic and marriage is the ultimate form of creating that magic if your heart is in the right place. For many it is the one time they feel that magic so the ceremony is held at the highest regard. What I want is not the ring or the party. What I want is to know that someone has chosen me to be the vessel they express their intimacy with consistently. What I want is the promise of that magic.