The Wedding

I attended a wedding this weekend. A young family member on my partner's side. No one in actual relation to me was there.

Weddings are bitter sweet for a lot of people I think. You go there, expecting to be elated for the couple, and instead find yourself questioning your own life. Some people looked genuinely happy to be there for the couple, some looked miserable because they just realized they aren't in love, some are just drunk fools, and then there's me.

We were the only (that I know of) gay couple that attended. And while the bride's family (and blood relatives of my partner) are well aware, accepting and welcoming of me and our relationship, I cant help but feel like the red headed step child.

I know "its 2010" and people are "cool(er)" with gay people, especially the ever popular and trendy lesbian. However, I had many reasons why I didn't wish to be the 'token' anything at this wedding. Some of it is fear from decades ago. Some of it is the fear instilled by my mother that I reflect poorly on my family. And a lot of it is simple respect drilled into my head as a child. I was brought up that if there was a possibility you, your actions, your clothing, whatever would offend someone in some way, you don't go, do that, or wear it, etc. This didn't just teach me respect, it taught me to loathe myself and fear every single situation I encounter that is new. But this piece is not about my mother or my self esteem. Its about the deep sadness all of that creates.

I have been with the same woman going on 14 years. That is longer than the majority of people at that wedding could say about their relationships. I share a very passionate love with my partner and have wooed her continuously since day one. I am a hopeless romantic and spend an uncountable about of time choosing and making gifts that are meaningful. I send flowers and chocolate dipped fruit to the house just because. There is hardly a time I walk into a store and leave without something for her, even it is just the Peppermint Patty she likes. I choose to spend my free time with her, and have happily given up nights out and friends for that time. We always go to bed together at the same time. We still brush our teeth together. We have 'our songs' and 'my song', the one even she doesn't know is for her.

As I sat at my table during the wedding, I watched. Watched all the young couples and a few married couples interact. The mood in the air at a wedding brings out more lovey behavior in most people. None of them seemed to share the deep connection we do though. However, they shared the one thing that I deperately wanted to but couldnt.......a dance. As I sit here now I can feel the tears well up at the realization that we probably loved each other more than most people in that room, and yet I was unable to share a moment that they all took for granted.

Could I have danced? Sure. Would it have been the end of the world? No probably not. But I have seen and felt first hand the possibilities that can exist. I have felt the stares, heard the whispers and have even been removed from the premises because I took that chance before. I have lost family, friends and invitations to return.

Being the romantic in the relationship, I may be the only one that shares in this sadness. The question "did they even play any slow songs?" was asked of me. My reply, simply stated, "yes, a lot of them". What I didn't say was, "they even played my song".