I spent most of yesterday with my mother who came down here to help with the last finishing touches of the preparations. This is code for, she took a look at the chaos and then dragged me and Mark away from it with a “you look exhausted, come take a drive”. We drove off into the country, and had a really nice day out with dinner at a country town pub.
We didn’t even get any texts of phone calls during the time. When we came home, Auntie and mum dragged Mark’s mum over to Auntie’s to get her drunk on wine, so that she too didn’t get a heart-attack from all the tossing everyone about.
Later, when I spoke to mum on the phone, I could hear Auntie and Mark’s mum laugh in the background, and they didn’t sound too sober. Neither did mum, for that matter. Peace has descended upon the household, for now. I expect everything to be back to usual this evening – if not worse, because the guests start to arrive this morning and later.
With orders to “relax” Mark and I have spent most of the evening just hanging about, watching television. Mark even ignored cooking dinner, and since it was his turn and I didn’t want to either, we ordered out and got some nice Lebanese food.
Now it is 2 am in the morning, and the house is quiet, and I keep thinking about the strange thought that tomorrow I’ll be married. I can turn over and look at his back, and think that this makes me the luckiest man alive. I wonder if I should stick my hand out and touch him to see if this is just some elaborate and vivid dream.
Most people don’t believe it. Most people are surprised when we turn up and they see how young we are. I expect a majority will think that we’re too young, and I both understand and don’t understand the reaction. I understand that today it’s not usual, and that you’re supposed to be in your thirties before you even think about it. I know that my parents married in their early twenties. Their parents married at the same time. So, I’m early.
But I also don’t understand that people can’t see that it is not a hasty decision, and that it has grown out of conflict and adversity and two years. I don’t understand how people can not see that two years is a very long time to reach and to re-evaluate a decision. It’s not rocket science, is it?
I keep going around in circles about all this. I keep trying to explain, to justify, when there is no need. Actually, maybe I do feel a need to explain, to contrast, and to argue that different people can be… different. I think that if Stephen told us he’d marry, we’d be sceptical too. If Abbie said so, we’d mock him. And then we’re annoyed when people do it to us.
So, that’s why I keep falling into a defensive position about it, I think. Not because I hesitate on some deep level, but because I want people to understand, and not to judge. Weird, because it is hard to describe how sure I am. How sure Mark says he is. And how sure we both are that we aren’t fooling ourselves about all this. But who is to say that we aren’t really immature and don’t have the capacity to make such a decision? If so, we’ll have to lie in the bed we’ve made. That’s all there is to it, isn’t it?
Dad is coming this evening, and he rang yesterday. It’s the first time in weeks that I’ve talked to him. He wants me, and mum and Mark to eat dinner together somewhere. Without everyone else. No nagging today, just three lines of dialogue. We really don’t communicate these days, do we? Not even now, in this situation.