Sunday, August 1, 2010

The Date

This date I will always remember.  From television shows, movies and stories from family and friends, I know I am supposed to always remember this date.  I need to be able to recall this date at any given moment, no matter what I am thinking and no matter what I am doing.  All of this doesn't scare me because I've always been pretty good with dates.  Wednesday, June 11, 2008 is the date. 

At the magistrate's office, the only appointment we can get is for 10am.  Apparently, June is a pretty popular month for weddings.  Choosing this month is the only typical thing about this wedding.  May and I have never done anything typical.  There's nothing typically female about her.  Oh, yes, there is.  She paints her toenails.  That's the only typical female thing she does.  The color is always black.  She says because it goes with everything, but I know it's a hang over from her high school days when she befriended  dark, disturbed and restless teenagers, read Anne Rice and listened to a lot of Seattle grunge. 

As I look at her now, a bystander would never know those things about her.  She's dressed in a champagne-colored vintage slip dress and her black painted toenails are covered with matching champagne-colored ballet slippers.  Her long dark hair is pulled back in a knot.  She's taken out her multiple earrings and replaced them with one pair of pearls that her parents had given her when she graduated from the University of Georgia (Go Dawgs!).

I will remember this date for the rest of my days, but I will also remember this moment as May and I wait for the magistrate's assistant to locate our paperwork.  Being an American male about to commit to one vagina for the rest of my life, I've been harassed by countless others about this fact.  It's just what you have to endure when you get hitched.  I always smile and nod, but cannot even begin to explain why I want to spend the rest of my life with May.  She asks me questions like these and I never come up with answers that suit her.  I'm not much of a talker or a thinker.  May over talks and over thinks everything. 

There are a thousand little reasons why I want to be with her.  May thinks I'm funny and is generally good for my mediocre ego.  She loves animals.  I had to be approved by a small family of pets that she cares for.  That's wrong, she doesn't just care for them.  They are her life.  When we started dating, she was more concerned about whether they liked me than whether I liked them.  She knew I could be replaced.  Obviously, I got lucky and they approved.  She loves to watch movies and read books, but she reads and watches the same ones over and over again.  She quotes lines from both and can't deny that she just loves words. 

She cares way too much what others think and worries incessently about everything, but there are moments when she breaks into a genuine smile and doesn't look like she's carrying the weight of the world around with her.  Those are the times that I wait for...those times are even more exciting when I am the reason for the smile.  It's what I've learned that I live for lately.  I do a lot of existing which includes work, sleep and repeat, but, in there sometimes, I can help May smile.  

Our relationship isn't perfect.  She makes me crazy more days than not.  Sometimes, I wonder if I hang around because I'm curious as to what she'll do or say next.  I guess it's love.  I've never been in love and I choose to not think too much about it.  As the magistrate walks in with every legal document known to make this thing legitimate, I look at May and realize that, no matter what happens, I will never forget this date.                    

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