I'm torn when it comes to commitment.
Don’t get me wrong: I'm all for it. I adore Zach, particularly when he gets so excited that his sentence structure disintegrates to a series of slurs, purrs, and mumbles (this usually involves candy or a rather dull Meet the Press interview).
Here's where my brain is thrown into a twisting, convoluted overdrive: public expression of commitment.
This holiday weekend, I journeyed to Chicago to witness the wedding of two terrific friends from college. I'd even been asked to be a groomsman, for the first and perhaps last time (as I proved to be a rather inept one in a few instances that are not currently relevant). Aside from being deeply honored to be asked to participate in (what I view to be) a union more perfect than the More Perfect Union envisioned in the federal Constitution, I was tickled by the fact that this beautiful couple sought to have their relationship recognized by law and community.
To me, beautiful and healthy couples should do this. I don't view marriage as something all must do to be successful, or an institution set up to define the core unit of family (as I can think of seventeen examples of families existing and thriving sans marriage… and that’s just in the past thirty seconds). Instead, it's an affirmation of mature couplehood (coupledom), and a core unit of one of the numerious types of families that can exist. It seems quite straightforward to me: two folks in love (in that sort of healthy, supportive, reassuring way), whether or not they've already integrated their lives domestically, economically, and financially, decide it's time to put out a little All Points Bulletin and say, “Hey, just so you know, we're going to make this officially official. I want [spouse] to get my stuff when I die, decide whether to pull the plug, wipe my butt when I can't, hold my hand, stand by me when no one else will, and dry those tears when I need it. After all, [gender pronoun of spouse] will love me in all the above situations.” Life isn't always a bed of roses; the strength of quality coupledom lies in the partnership - in times both good and bad, we'll get through this together.
Of course, that's easy to do with state-supported legalized unions (read: straights only, except in a handful of countries and U.S. states). So, for my friends this weekend, I must admit I found myself a little green with envy when, as they walked down the aisle, I realized that they, for the cost of a marriage license from the great State of Illinois, obtained more legal rights than Zach and I, for a few thousand dollars and the trouble of a gay-friendly attorney, could obtain through putting one other in our wills.
My thoughts failed to evolve much further beyond that initial pang of envy, however, as I suddenly realized it was my turn to escort my corresponding bridesmaid down the aisle.
"But hey, a will isn't half bad," my pragmatic side says, "Something is better than nothing." I'm to the point where I want to make sure Zach gets something rather than nothing, in the event of my untimely departure. I want something more than the cheap no-legal-rights-whatsoever certificate issued by the City of Seattle when we registered our "domestic partnership" (besides, I lost the certificate in our move during the summer).
I'm starting (ever so slowly) to crave something more substantial than the phrase, "Oh, I'm living with my boyfriend."
But, what's a troupe of "Godless sodomites" to do in such a situation?
I can hardly accomplish what my friends pulled off this weekend: a near flawless Catholic wedding. For one thing, I'm not Catholic. For another, do any religious denominations permit the blessing of a homosexual union these days? Granted, I haven't done my homework, but I doubt it'd be something for the two of us to accomplish with any ease. The religious services we've attended recently have been Catholic and Anglican, which will probably induce eye-rolls among a variety of readers (Do I even have a variety of readers?). And how exactly would two men walk (prance) down the aisle? Particularly when both Zach and I have bulging handfuls of family members (some closer than others) who either remain in the dark or did not exactly react with open arms and loving support in regards to our respective sexual orientations? Thus, services would largely be confined to friends, of which we have a varied and light Diaspora scattered across the continent. How many would make the journey to Seattle to witness a service in which no legal rights were obtained and the consent of a religious or spiritual authority is at best a nod of "Well, at least they aren't pedophiles"? I can’t wait to see how I phrase that little slice of reality on the engraved invitations.
On the other hand, is it pure Blind Arrogance to even assume that
1. My relationship is as stable and supportive as that of the countless married heterosexuals and "committed" homosexuals out there? Perhaps our late-night ponderings of political maneuvers in the Knesset, the fate of President Roslin on Battlestar Galactica, our cat’s once-persistent urination on the now-infamous orange chair, and Seattle’s persistent mass transit woes just don’t make the cut compared to marriages across the globe.
2. Our family and friends would see such an endeavor worthy of their attention? One of my biggest fears, after all, remains: what if I threw a party and no one came?
Such considerations make an already stressful situation (being a part of the wedding party this weekend made the stress heaped upon bride and groom, even with the support of family and friends, a much more obvious) much less appetizing. As my cravings for recognition grow, no doubt I'll merely satiate them with some minor legal action: drawing up a will, for example. Something more substantial than that will have to wait until financial, cultural, familial, religious, and logistical constraints are eased on all fronts.
In the meantime, we have a cat, a messy apartment, and two friends who, when I saw them off Saturday night at O'Hare to begin their Scottish honeymoon, caused Three Things to pop into my head:
Thing One: "Man, I love these guys."
Thing Two: "Boy, I sure am glad they got married."
Thing Three: "Someday, I want what they have."
And I don't mean a red-headed bride.
Posted by James at November 27, 2005 08:46 AM