Never Getting Married

I hate weddings.

There are many people who say that, and don’t really mean it.

But I mean it.

Let me tell you why:

1)   The wedding industry gouges people. They charge astronomical prices for venues, catering, even the chairs people are supposed to sit in, all because they know they can. Capitalism at its finest.

2)   The obligation to invite your creepy uncle even though everyone hates him. No one talks to the creepy uncle or aunt or cousin in decades and yet all of a sudden, you’re expected to invite them to the wedding. Because they’re family. Because it’s what you’re supposed to do. Because God forbid, they don’t get to partake of the $50 dry, tasteless, salmon and too-sweet pinot grigio.

3)   The pressure to have a great time. A celebration of love requires everyone present to show off those pearly whites 24-7. If you’re not smiling, something is wrong with you. If you don’t dance to the macarena, you’re a killjoy.

4)   Bleeding you dry. If you are a close friend or relative of the bride/groom, you are expected to help pay for the bachelor/bachelorette party, the shower party, a wedding gift, a wedding honeymoon. You are supporting your friends/or family as they start a life together, and if you don’t fork up the cash, then goddammit you are a horrible, horrible person.

5)   All of these expectations for A. Single. Party. Yea, I said it. It’s a party. The most expensive party anyone can have (aside from maybe a quinceanera). And if you’re the one getting married, then it better be the best damn day of your life. And even if you’re stressed out and have $0 in the bank because you spent it all on your wedding (party), well suck it up. And even if everyone is asking you a million questions about decorations and food and pictures and your mom keeps insisting on inviting that one guy from high school you haven’t spoken to in 20 years, it’s fine. It’s all fine. Cause it’s a glorious day, right? It’s the most beautiful day, right? IT’S YOUR WEDDING!

Reading this, you might expect that I’m some bitter divorcee, but that’s not the case. My parents divorced when I was 6 (like most couples in America), but that isn’t the sole reason for my disdain. It’s everything I just mentioned and more. It’s the futile expectation that we should spend all our lives with one person. Monogamy is a joke, but an even bigger joke is marriage. Is officially aligning yourself with someone else, only to have it all break apart in divorce proceedings, and legal documents, and who gets that crappy chair that neither of us used but now both of us are fighting for. It’s a mess and I don’t know why anyone does it.

I’m currently dating someone who wants to get married.  You’d think that I’d have the good sense to break it off. And even though I don’t believe in monogamy or marriage, I love her. So. There’s that.

Nena (my girlfriend) has wanted to get married since she was 6. The year my parents got divorced, her mom and stepdad got married. It was a beautiful day, apparently. They had a small wedding on a remote beach in Mexico. It was immediate family only. The stepdad, Raul, adopted Nena that same day so it was quite the occasion. And lovely. It sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Nena got everything she wanted that day, and her mom looked stunning. I’ve seen the photos. So, I get it.

Last year, we were sitting on the couch watching The House of Wax with Vincent Price, arguably the best Vincent Price movie ever, and in the middle of the scene towards the end where he’s got the female protagonist all locked up and is about to pour a bucket of wax on her, Nena says,

“Ricky’s getting married.”

Ricky is her little brother.

I don’t react at first. Because I don’t know what to say.

“That’s nice,” I say to the screen.

I can feel Nena tense up next to me. She isn’t looking at me, but I know she’s pissed.

“Do they have a date?” I ask, looking at her this time.

She shakes her head.

We watch a few more minutes of the movie before she gets up, saying, “I’m going to bed,” and goes into the bathroom and closes the door.

I stay on the couch, watching the movie, but not really watching of course. Nena emerges 15 minutes later and looks at me.

“We’re never getting married?” she asks.

I don’t answer. I just look at her.

She nods and goes to bed.

I’ve never been anything but honest with Nena. She’s always known about my not wanting to marry, and how I feel about monogamy. We’ve gone through periods when we’re open, because she’s not 100 percent for monogamy either, but I was the one to call that off. I like when it’s just me and her sometimes. But do I want that forever? Do I want her in my life forever? Who can tell what time will bring, right? Who can say that I’ll always love her?

The year has gone by quickly and it’s been a good year, mostly. A year of trips to the beach and birthday celebrations and barbecues with family and days of doing nothing but lounging on the couch eating chips. But it’s been a year with an underlying tension that I can’t deny. A year of subtle hints where Nena makes comments without saying completely what she means. Where I have to fill in the spaces of her silence. But I don’t, of course. I just let it sit there. And sometimes I wonder if it’s all in my head. If she isn’t implying anything and I’m the one who’s tense because I know what’s coming.

And here it is. Today is Nena’s brother’s wedding day and I’m sitting on our couch staring at my hands emotionally preparing myself for it all. Cause it’s not just the normal wedding antics that I’m dreading, but the other stuff. The, ‘when are you going to make my daughter an honest woman’ comments from Raul; the, ‘how come Nena doesn’t have a ring on her finger?’ from her mother, Leti. I love Nena’s family, but. But.

I’m a groomsmen and Nena is a bridesmaid so we’re not really going to see each other until the ceremony, which is hours away. I want to say the right thing to her. I want to tell her I love her and that she looks beautiful. But I want to say all that without promising her anything. Because I can’t. Because it’d be a lie.

She emerges from the bedroom in jeans and a t-shirt with her dress all wrapped up for later.

“Hair and makeup first?” I ask.  

“Yep,” she says. And then, “You got up early this morning.”

“I went for a run,” I say.

Nena knows that I only run when I’m stressed out.

Usually, I ride a bike for exercise.

Running is for stress.

She laughs and says, “Of course you did…don’t be so worried.”

I raise my eyebrow by way of response, and she smiles.

“I’m serious,” she says, “Yes, my family is going to get on your ass. Yes, you know how I feel. But today is for Ricky and Angie. Let’s just have a good time, ok?”

I can tell there’s more behind her words and she knows it too.

We know each other so well it’s disgusting, really.

But I nod and smile and we kiss. And she leaves to get ready and to help the bride-to-be.

As a groomsman, I don’t really have to leave for about another two hours, so I clean the house. I wash the dishes. I scrub the toilet and sweep and mop the floors. I do laundry. I do anything to keep my mind from thinking about the wedding.

Several hours later, all showered and suited up, I head to the fancy Ritz Hotel.

Raul has paid for the hall, and it is stunning. I don’t even want to think about what it costs, but in all fairness, Raul can pay for it, I guess. The man is loaded.

The hall has been decorated in highlights of red and black. Ricky and Angie’s favorite colors. It’s stunning and classy and I’m already wondering how long they’re going to last. What their expiration date will be. It’s a screwed-up thought to have, I know. But it happens every time I go to a wedding. Even if I love the people getting married.

“Hey there!”

I look up to see Raul walking toward me.

He’s decked out in his Prada suit, hair slicked back, already holding his celebratory Cuban cigar in his hand. He looks like he’s about to make me an offer I can’t refuse.

“Hey,” I smile.

We hug.

He looks at me and I already know what’s going to come out of his mouth.

“So, when are you going to make my daughter an honest woman?”

I look at the chair behind him and say what I always say to Nena’s family, “Someday.”

When I look back at his face his eyes are boring into mine and I’m wondering if he can see my soul. With Raul, I wouldn’t be surprised. Sometimes he comes off like a mafioso, and sometimes he’s the Budda, you know? He’s versatile.

Ricky’s cousin, Phillip, comes into the hall and saves me by saying I need to go to the groomsman room.

Raul pats me on the shoulder and winks, and I escape. For now.

Ricky is pacing the room and smiles when he sees me.

“Hey, man!” he says.

We hug, and I congratulate him, ask him how he feels.

“Nervous,” he says, “But ready.”

Philip puts his arm around him, “Ready to ruin your life?” then laughs saying, “Just kidding, man. You know I love Angie…but really, though. Say goodbye to freedom.”

Philip laughs again and nods at me, knowing that I agree.

“Ah, shut up, Phil,” Ricky says, “You’re just jealous cause you’re alone.”

“I like being alone,” Philip replies, “I like my solitude and, let’s face it, I like being single. No strings attached for me, please and thank you.”

“I want my strings attached to Angie,” Ricky says, looking like a love-struck fool.

He then looks at me and says, “When are you going to attach your strings to my sister?”

“I’m going to get us some waters,” Philip says, and leaves the room.

I sigh and look at Ricky, “I love your sister.”

“I know,” he says, “So, why not marry her?”

“Ricky,” I respond, “How many times are we going to have this conversation? You already know how I feel about marriage. So does Nena.”

“Yea, but that girl wants to get married. You know she does,” he says.

I shrug and then say, “Look, let’s focus on you and Angie today, all right? We can argue about this later. You’re excited, right?”

Ricky nods, “I can’t wait to marry her, man. She’s the best part of my life…and, look, this is the last thing I’ll say, but it seems like Nena is the best part of yours. I see the way you look at her. We all do. That’s why it doesn’t make sense to us.”

I don’t respond and don’t have to because Philip comes back in with the waters.

We chat some more about Angie and how lucky Ricky is and I’m happy for him, but I feel like I’m going through the motions. I’m not present at all, because I’m thinking about Nena. I’m wondering how long she’ll put up with me, knowing we want different things. I’d be devastated if she left me. But I’d also move on. I’d eventually get over it, because that’s how feelings work. They ease with time. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

I stand next to Philip, who stands next to Ricky, who is watching Angie walk down the aisle. His face is glowing; there are tears in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. It’s what always gets me about weddings. As much as I abhor weddings, the groom is usually over the moon.

They exchange their vows, rings, kiss and are man and wife. Everyone claps. I look up to see Nena looking at me. Smiling sadly. And my heart clenches.

The reception is everything I knew it would be. Toasts from the parents, Philip, and Angie’s maid of honor, Lucia. Father Daughter Dance, Mother Son Dance.

Nena sits next to me and holds my hand. We chat with the other guests at our table, family and friends. Several times people ask us when we’re going to get married, and Nena does a good job of rolling her eyes and trying to change the subject. At some point her mom comes up to the table and puts her arms around both of us, “Your wedding next, huh?” Everyone laughs, and Nena is smiling but the smile is too wide. I excuse myself, saying I have to use the restroom but really I just need silence. I need a moment to myself. I get to the bathroom, and thankfully there’s no one in there. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder why I’ve stayed with Nena this long. Why I’ve allowed myself to go so far away from what I’ve said I wanted my whole life. To be single. To be free. To live my life how I want to without having to worry about anyone else. Maybe I’ve lost myself by staying with her, I think. Maybe I need a break to find myself again. But as I tell myself this, I can feel my body cringe and tense and squeeze and clearly, my body doesn’t agree with my brain.

When I leave the bathroom, Nena is standing in the hallway waiting for me.

“You, ok?” she asks.

“Fine,” I say, “Are you?”

“Seriously?” she replies.

I look away. “You knew it was going to be like this,” I say, “You knew they’d say these things.”

“It doesn’t make it less annoying,” she says.

“I know,” I reply.

She looks at me and after a moment of silence she says, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

There are tears forming in her eyes and her chest is rising and falling with the deep breaths she’s now taking, and I can feel the world spiraling and instead of pleading or begging or telling her how my heart would rip in two if she left me, I just say, “Ok.”

Two months later, the apartment I’m living in looks like it’s been ravaged by a tornado. Clothes are everywhere, pizza boxes and beer cans cover the floor. I’m a stereotypical mess. I’m a cliché. I’m sitting watching some stupid reality show when there’s a knock on my door.

I open it to find Raul on the other side and something in me cracks and I start to sob. Uncontrollably. He steps in and wraps me in his arms and doesn’t say anything.

After a while I start to calm down, and step away embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“Don’t be,” he says.

I step aside so he can come in. I watch as he surveys the apartment.

“Clearly being single is doing wonders for you,” he says with a smirk.

“Clearly,” I say.

We sit on the couch and he regards me, giving me his pointed stare.

“I heard from Philip you weren’t doing well,” he says, “I wanted to come see you.”

“That’s nice of you,” I respond.

“Tell me, what is your deal?” he asks.

“Raul, please, can we not-

“No,” he interrupts, “Tell me. I want to understand.”

I sigh and say, “You already know what my deal is.”

“You think weddings are a sham. Fine,” he says, “Then don’t have a big wedding. Do something intimate. Just family. Or just you and her. She’d probably like that too.”

“It’s not just about the wedding,” I say, “It’s marriage. It’s pretending like we can be tied to one person for the rest of our lives.”

“I’ve been married almost 40 years,” he says.

“Yes,” I reply, “But you were married before that. That clearly didn’t last.”

He laughs, “Mijo, I was married to that woman for a year. And it was obviously the wrong choice. I’ve been with Leti for most of my life at this point. And yes, we’ve had our ups and down, but I don’t want to be with anyone else. I enjoy living my life with her. That’s not impossible to find. And I think you have it with my daughter. I think you know you do too, but you’re afraid. I mean, Nena isn’t 100% on board with monogamy anyway. You could have an open relationship sometimes, if you wanted. I would think you would be all over that.”

I don’t say anything. I think about how Nena and I were together. I think of how the best parts of my days were coming home to her. Waking up next to her. Laughing with her.

“Does she still want me?” I ask quietly, looking at the ground.

“She does,” he replies, “You know she does…you want me to take you to her?”

I stay silent for a while.

And then,

“I do.”