I went to a poor elementary school, but there was one family who was, "doesn't buy soap," poor. The youngest boy, Joe, was in my class. Mostly, we just ignored him, but sometimes, we didn't include him because he smelled terrible. It wasn't too bad to play with him at recess, because that was outside. But indoors, we were not kind about it.
It was second grade. Things must have been getting a little bit out of hand, and the teachers determined that we needed to be Talked To. I don't remember all of the details anymore, but they explained that sometimes families were poor and couldn't afford things, and that above all, we should be kind to them and include them. I took this to heart, and determined that I would be friends with Joe. I stood next to him in lines, talked to him indoors, and was otherwise friends with him, and where I led, everybody else followed. This lasted maybe three days.
Gym class. We were sitting in a circle on the floor waiting for the gym teacher to come back. Joe was sitting next to me, on my left side, and next thing I know, he's kissed me on the cheek in front of the entire class, who have erupted in to laughter. I was mortified, not so much at the laughing, I was pretty regularly paired with one boy or another and teased for it. It rolled off my back because I knew I was just a friend, I was not a girlfriend, and the opinion of anyone who wasn't me did not matter. No, it was the idea that he would dare to do such a thing, and just assume it would be OK. This is not friendship, this is inappropriate. That was the end of my friendship with Joe.
So that was the first one. The second one, the first one I consented to, with the guy who is now my ex-husband, was twelve years later. Sometime in May, probably. I don't really remember. I do remember that it was about two weeks after that he explained that I was a terrible kisser. Apparently, I never improved, but he was never able to explain what I ought to do differently, and it was only occasionally that he needed to remind me that I wasn't any good. I had nothing to compare it to so, apart from constantly wondering what I ought to change, I didn't mind.
I remember the disagreement about the wedding. I didn't want to kiss him in front of a bunch of people. That I had agreed to a wedding at all was quite enough, why did I have to kiss him with people watching? He said that he didn't think it would be possible to stop him from wanting to kiss me, and, well, it's not really possible to argue against that, is it? That ceremony really was a horrible moment. I knew all my lines, and everyone else's, because I'd written the ceremony, and the vows. None of which I remember anymore. I remember standing there, trying to determine whether my hands in his were sufficiently alive as to feel natural, and knowing if I looked at him and actually saw him, rather than just looking in his general direction, that I would make some absolutely terrible face that would indicate just how badly I didn't want to do this.
I remember the disagreement about the wedding. I didn't want to kiss him in front of a bunch of people. That I had agreed to a wedding at all was quite enough, why did I have to kiss him with people watching? He said that he didn't think it would be possible to stop him from wanting to kiss me, and, well, it's not really possible to argue against that, is it? That ceremony really was a horrible moment. I knew all my lines, and everyone else's, because I'd written the ceremony, and the vows. None of which I remember anymore. I remember standing there, trying to determine whether my hands in his were sufficiently alive as to feel natural, and knowing if I looked at him and actually saw him, rather than just looking in his general direction, that I would make some absolutely terrible face that would indicate just how badly I didn't want to do this.
It sounds like I didn't want to be there because I didn't want to marry him. No. At the time, I did. I wanted to be with him, I just didn't want to have a wedding. It's why we signed the license ahead of time. The ceremony wasn't real, we'd done the marriage part already, this was just the show, and under those terms I could at least try. But I was badly unrehearsed. At the rehearsal, I wanted to do the entire thing, to go through the ceremony and vows and make sure we were projecting and hitting the beats correctly and that all the blocking was OK and everyone thought I was insane.
His proposal was terrible. The wedding was arduous.
A lot of the things I remember from our relationship now, I remember for their awkwardness, or my having been uncomfortable, or in a couple cases, actual hurt. Except. It was right after we got engaged. It's a moment that's yellow and white and grey in my memory. Sitting up in bed, head on his shoulder, hand on his chest. That's it. That's the extent of the memory, but it feels good and safe, and warm. That moment, out of all of them, is the one I want to get back to someday. That scenario probably happened more than once, but that one's the one I remember, just isolated happiness that didn't last, in the end.
A lot of the things I remember from our relationship now, I remember for their awkwardness, or my having been uncomfortable, or in a couple cases, actual hurt. Except. It was right after we got engaged. It's a moment that's yellow and white and grey in my memory. Sitting up in bed, head on his shoulder, hand on his chest. That's it. That's the extent of the memory, but it feels good and safe, and warm. That moment, out of all of them, is the one I want to get back to someday. That scenario probably happened more than once, but that one's the one I remember, just isolated happiness that didn't last, in the end.
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