So I went to that other wedding yesterday. Mine.
It was very small--just family and a few friends on the beach at our camp, fewer than 15 people all together. It was the perfect ritual in an informal but meaningful setting with important people there.
It got me wondering where I would draw the line between "single" and "married" for me and Roy. It turns out to be one of those invisible but not imaginary lines. Yesterday's ceremony solemnized our vows in a very public way. But he and I have also been married, on the inside, for some time.
On a purely prosaic note, this morning at the gym the conversation turned to cell phone holders. I started to say, "My boyfriend has the kind..." and realized that now I say, "My husband." I enjoyed that.
In fact, I'm very happy to be officially married. I look forward to our lives together. And although this wasn't my first time to marry, it will be my last.
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A U.S. writer living in Canada examines borders, boundaries, and other invisible (though not imaginary) lines.
