In case you are a fan of same sex unions, weddings in general, or are just really itching to know what I look like (or my wife, as I haven’t posted a picture of her yet [she’s the adorable one in the suspenders]) here’s the promised wedding picture spam.
Best day of my life.
Okay, but see here’s the thing. I want all of you to understand this thing:
I posted these wedding photos because this was the most amazing day of my life. I’ve been married for about two months, and goddammit, it has been just the best, you know? Like, this woman, in these photographs? She’s incredible. She’s unreal. She’s kind and she’s thoughtful and she’s everything I never thought I deserved. She’s the woman who I get to spend the rest of my ridiculously lucky life with.
It’s so simple to me, to us.
But it’s so complicated to so much of the world. She and I can’t walk into the grocery store holding hands. I get tight-lipped when someone compliments my ring at work because I can’t determine if they are going to be “cool” with it or not. If they’ll report me for being “inappropriate” in our online survey. Again. My wife was fired from a job as a driver for a children’s occupational therapist because her boss saw us kiss at the mall— because she couldn’t have “that kind of person” around children. I walked myself down the aisle at my wedding because a church told my parents that it wasn’t possible for them to attend my wedding.
And we’ve had it so easy! Our lives have been blissfully carefree compared to so many. We have the most amazing friends and family and life is pretty fucking sweet.
But here’s the thing I wanted to tell you. This post I made, to try to just share my little square of happiness with my little square of the internet, has literally tens of thousands of notes. Tens of thousands. I’ve gained hundreds of followers and my inbox runneth over. And not a single message I’ve received, not a single reblog that I have been able to find, has had anything to say but amazing, beautiful, kind words of congratulations. No bullying. No trolling. No inappropriate offers or lewd remarks. Out of tens of thousands.
That’s not something I’m used to. It’s not something anyone in the LGBTQ community is used to.
Do you even get how amazing you are? You, the denizens of Tumblr. Do you understand that? I am so exceedingly proud of you, you wacky kids. You are all such incredible people, with such kind and open hearts, and I wish I could hug each and every one of your necks.
So if you are having any sort of rough day, please know that there is this tiny lesbian couple in northeast America who likes you just a whole lot, okay? You’ve overwhelmed us.
Thank you. We love you.
You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are… and I just need a minute of your attention.
I want to tell you that I hope you know how lucky you are. How much I would like to be in your shoes. To be able to be in the same bed as her every morning. To help her waking up from the bad mood.
I hope you know she’s only going to talk with you after she brushes her teeth. It’s not on purpose… she’s just afraid of losing her charm in your eyes. Afraid that you’ll consider her a common human being.
I hope you know that she likes to enjoy every sunbeam, and that coffee makes her sick.
That she chooses what she’s going to wear on the night before, just to have five more minutes of sleep in the morning. That the alarm clock rings fifty times until she gets up, and that, even so, she manages to arrive on time.
I also want you to know that she loves fantastic tales, but not Horror stories! That she might know all the names of an old book’s characters, but that she isn’t going to try hard to immediately know all your friends’ names…
Because she… she owns herself.
She’s not the one who is lucky to have you. You are the lucky one, to have her in your life.
She’s not a romantic by nature, but a spontaneous gesture from you will make her weaken. Because she’s safe and sweet at the same time.
She can’t cook, but she’ll try hard to prepare your favourite dish. And if it doesn’t come out right, she’ll laugh at her failure, instead of blushing.
And when she laughs… it makes me want to cry. Not in sadness, but because each laugh is like a musical note that touches my heart and makes me want to dance.
I hope that you stop doing what you like to do, and that sometimes you have time to hear her talk about her day and every single achievement. That you put up with her artistic daydreams and the time she wastes colouring children’s books when she wants some time for herself.
I want you to know that I would love to be on that side, putting up with her bad mood and seeing it change after the first glass of wine.
I wanted to be able to admire her nails that most of the times have peeling nail polish than perfect nail polish… but that every imperfect red shape has a story that she built with her own hands.
I wish I had fallen in love with her on the first day I saw her, and not on the second one. Because each day with her is to be sure that you are loved. Because she’s seduction and joy altogether. Because she gets what she wants with the power of her smile and the strength of her look. I’d be a fool if I didn’t know she has brown eyes and that she loves the colour green.
I want you to know that she’s all I want and never knew I had.
Learn that the arrhythmia you feel with her is normal! And that the lack of it is like an emptiness worse than death.
I hope you’ll be everything I never was.
I hope you treat her right.
Because if you break her heart you’ll lose her forever.
I wish I could have read the future…
Você não sabe quem eu sou, mas eu sei quem você é, e só preciso de um minuto da tua atenção. Espero que saiba a sorte que tem. O quanto eu gostaria de estar na tua pele. Poder estar na mesma cama que ela todas as manhãs. Ajudá-la a acordar da má disposição matinal. Espero que saiba que ela não vai falar nada enquanto não escovar os dentes. Não é por mal, é por medo de perder o encanto aos teus olhos e que a considere um ser humano comum. Espero que saiba que ela gosta de aproveitar cada raio de sol, e que o café a deixa mal disposta. E que ela escolhe a roupa que vai vestir na noite anterior, só para poder ter mais cinco minutos de sono pela manhã. Que o despertador toca cinquenta vezes até que se levante, e que mesmo assim, consegue chegar na hora certa. Quero também te dizer que ela adora histórias do fantasmas mas não de terror! Que é capaz de saber o nome de todas as personagens de um livro antigo, mas que não se vai esforçar para decorar o nomes de todos os teus amigos de primeira, porque ela, ela é que sabe de si. Você nunca será uma sorte para ela. Sorte é poder tê-la na sua vida. Sabe? Ela não é romântica por natureza, mas uma demonstração espontânea de sua parte vai fazê-la fraquejar. Porque ela é segura e doce ao mesmo tempo. Ela não sabe cozinhar, mas vai se esforçar para fazer o seu prato preferido. E se não estiver bom, ela vai rir do “fracasso”, em vez de lamentar. E quando ela ri, quando ela ri eu tenho vontade de chorar. Não de tristeza, mas porque cada gargalhada é como uma nota musical que toca ao coração e me faz querer dançar. Ela é tudo o que eu queria e nunca soube que tive. Aprende que a “arritmia” que sentes com ela é normal! E que a falta dela é um vazio igual à morte. Espero que seja tudo aquilo que eu nunca fui. Espero que a trate bem. Porque se partir o coração dela, vai perdê-la para sempre. Pudesse eu ter lido o futuro.
Do you not understand what you mean to me?