Holding A Black Cat

I don’t know why exactly but I was never much on marriage. It’s weird because I do believe in two people staying together forever, I believe in love at first sight and I believe true love conquers all. But there’s something about the ceremony and tradition that I never felt connected to, and the idea of planning and buying and stressing seemed really far removed from the idea of just wanting to be with that other person. In my head, the celebration of love had turned into the celebration of loving a dress and shrimp cocktail and a band playing bad 80s music. I felt like I’d have to be the girl who jumps up and down on her toes, clapping her hands and saying ohmygodohmygodohmygod, and couldn’t muster it for that particular occasion. Which is weird because I can easily, and without even trying, muster that kind of idiotic enthusiasm for almost anything else. What is wrong with me?

When Mo first told me she met the man she was going to marry, I think I said yeah ok, and then changed the subject. I said this to my sweet little precious girl! I think my idea was well, everybody says that when they meet a cute guy, and also if I don’t acknowledge this then no one will get hurt. But the thing is 1. Mo never says stuff like that and 2. Mo really never says stuff like that. So in my head I had the thought ok maybe she did.

Then I met Ryan, who is easy, complicated, funny, serious, generous and appreciative, in exactly the same way that Mo is all of those things. Plus he seems unafraid of addressing things that other people might try to avoid, which is an important quality to have in any sort of relationship. In fact, I suspect that it is fearlessness, of boredom, of conflict, of ugliness that is the second most important ingredient in marriage.

I mean come on, what do I know, but it seems true. At least now, knowing them both together, it's much easier for me to jump up and down, clap my hands and say ohmygodohmygodohmygod.