When was the day I started writing poems without a trace of angst in them, replacing the useless bitterness with hope and longing? Or, when did I start having daydreams about the little things, like laying still in the quiet with someone's heartbeat dancing on the inside of my skull, or about cooking someone else dinner from scratch? The quotidian has become the ideal!
I once sat through the Notebook without shedding a single tear, and I'm sure now if I watched it again I would turn into a quivering puddle of my own feelings and take refuge in my flannel sheets until someone coaxed me out with comfort food (preferably pizza or freshly baked cookies) or shopping (preferably vinyl or thrifting). Where did the romance COME FROM?
Speaking of romance...
Last weekend, Jill and Steve finally got engaged after 7 years of being together. Their relationship has lasted longer than most celebrity marriages, just over a third of my own life span, and a lengthy Itch.
Seems like just yesterday, it was the beginning of October, and I was getting ready for class when Steve phoned me, asking did I have a minute to talk? It was something important. "Well of course my good sir," said I, absentmindedly, half of my brain up in the buzzing atmosphere of clothes, shoes, where-is-my-book, pre-school mayhem. (Or maybe I said, "uhh sure?" This happened so long ago, I'm rather sure some of it is paraphrasing, but you get the idea.)
"I want to ask Jill to marry me."
BOOM.
My brain shut off and my focus narrowed to a pin point. I think I froze, and I don't remember what I said, but it was probably both eloquent and supportive... "Ohmygod" or "fuckyes". I was frolicking rampant at this news! Steve had placed the crown of "Being In the Know" on my head and I had fully accepted my new role as sovereign of Awesomestuff. I was revving up to gush and bubble to my friends, with whom I've had the hypothetical Jill/Steve (or "Still" as they're called in Hollywood) wedding scenario chat manymany times. Finally, I was going to have an excuse to buy ANOTHER fancy dress for a wedding! (The first being the bridesmaid gown for my dear friend Steph's wedding in May.) I wondered who else knew this secret, who I might be able to drag into a coffee shop and gossip over expensive bevvies with.
Then he shattered my world, "You have to promise me that you won't tell anyone."
And Steve means promises the way Italian mobsters swear revenge. You make PROMISES to Steve. I waved goodbye to my hopes of being girly and signed in blood to be quiet about it. We talked about whether or not he knew how he was going to do it. Where, when, why-- was there going to be cake eventually? Would I get to try the cake? And oh yeah-- how, again?
"I don't know," said Secretive Steve, and then he said something I'll never forget, "I'd just ask her today if I could. I want to do it so badly." My heart died in my chest. I. You guys. I lost my ability to evennnnnnnnnnnn.
Thus began the two month long charade of carrying around the top-secret-future elephant sized happiness around with me inside my tiny one room heart. I had to try and hide it, from the WORLD.
Once, while I was skyping with Jill, I got a text from Steve saying he had just picked up the ring.
When she came for her visit to Montreal, I was paranoid a few too many glasses of wine might have me sneakily trying to imply that I knew something she didn't know. Conversations about baby names or the future of Jill and Steve in Australia were suddenly topics of DEATH. A minefield of, "did I give up the game?"
I was determined not to be that guy, the one who spoils everything.
When I flew home for the engagement surprise party Steve had meticulously put together (my standards of men and romance now SHATTERED, thank you Steven), and Jill texted me, "What are you doing tonight?" I all but had a conniption fit on the bus into Toronto.
It was the most elaborate heist I've ever been involved in. And at the end of it all-- we were going to the chapel.
You should read that in a movie trailer man voice. Or don't but it's more fun that way.
The party was a smashed success, in that Jill was totally surprised, we cried all over each other, all the food was gone and ohhhh yes, 90% of the people who stayed past 2AM ended up doing keg stands and having a dance party in the living room of Steve's parent's house. I was so filled with love, riding the wave, and I'm unbelievably lucky to have been able to be there. I know not everyone gets along with their family, or is close with their family. I'm not one of them. Especially since I moved to Montréal, my blood and my love have been more important than ever.
We danced into the wee hours of the morning, stepping in time and spinning for the future, laughing and grinning about what it meant for all of us. Everyone had the same happiness. It is fantastic to have a life filled with so much love. That's gotta be the point of it all. Love your family. Your friends. The people around you. The work you do. The food you eat. The life you live. Love yourself, damnit. Lead the life romantic.
Congratulations again, Jill and Steve.<3
