A gay man is marrying a woman he will never romantically love, or even have sex with.
A friend is moving in with a woman he could never see as a lover.
Initially there was shock and outrage all around from the ones around him,
“Marrying a woman?” they’d say, “Have you lost your mind?”
A (spouse) and two kids, a dog, a kitchenette. The wholesome American dream. He could pull a Madonna and adopt one of the kids from Africa, he tells me.
Apparently he has given up finding love. Apparently he has given up on disappointments and hope.
In the past, we’d call that resignation. Today, he calls it “achieving the life he’s never had.”
“Is this what the whole fight for marriage equality was for, so that you could marry a woman?” I wondered to myself, but never actually telling him that.
Then I realised that in my judgement of his decision, not only did I realise what my own views on marriage are, but that had I told him off, like some of his friends did, I would be imposing my views on his. And who was I to curtail what my friends choose to pursue? If my friends choose ‘happiness’ in whatever forms they see fit, I will be supportive, even if they aren’t the same as mine.
So I only wished him the best in his pursuit of happiness, no matter whether he eventually walks down the aisle with a bride in hand or not.