Haha, it is funny, but there’s a limit to what can be expressed in words. The power, or lack of power, of words are the most stark when you have this incredible feeling that you want to put on paper, or on the screen, and the words just feels diluted and faint and… false. They can not ever encompass anything but a pale ghost of what they are supposed to represent. Yet, I try. I try.
Like. I want to write about yesterday. The best day of my life so far. I’ve started about ten different versions about the same events. I’ve deleted every single version. None of them rang true because none of them described the full colour, smell, sound, and intensity of yesterday. It was hollow, and it was shallow, and because it was like having a thick plate of misty glass between the telling and the events it felt false.
Yesterday, when Mark said “I do” to me during our civil partnership ceremony at a venue here in our county, reality and time and perception changed from normality to hyper-sense. Time didn’t pass at all during the ceremony, and time passed a thousand times faster. Every second was recorded in minute detail, but in no time at all did the registrar pronounce us legally civil partnered. It felt like five hours and like five seconds, at the same time.
I am not a good enough writer to describe that, beyond making a list of the gifts, or the guests. I can tell you funny anecdotes about how Mark grabbed a bunch of flowers out of a vase and tossed them to a second-cousin that was about twelve, and how this girl behaved as if Harry Styles had appeared before her. She jumped up and down with the dripping flowers clutched to her missing bosom, screaming.
I can tell you about the less than stellar dance, where I and Mark was supposed to dance, and where my freshly baked husband stepped on my feet several times. I can tell you about the speech that Mark’s dad made that was both funny and heart-warming. I can capture moments of the day, and arrange them in a narrative, and try to make you who read this smile. I can tell you about going out for some fresh air, and finding my mother drying tears there together with Auntie. And I can tell you about hugging my mother with any kind of deep feeling for the first time in years.
But I could never put into words what I felt when he said that “I do” and how I felt when he smiled his little smile after the words. Or how I wanted to turn around and shout to the audience when I said those words. The words are simply too weak, too feeble, and too faint for that.
This morning I woke from a dream at seven because it felt like something was crawling on my forehead. Except when I opened my hand and moved to slap whatever it was away, my fingers hit a hand. Mark’s hand.
When I turned my head toward him, still groggy from sleep and not entirely present yet, while trying to understand what was going on, I see him lie there on the side with a huge grin on his face. He had been toying with a lock of my hair while watching me sleep. That was the bug crawling on my face; his hand and his fingers.
Despite all the stuff I wrote in the previous segment, It is surprising how little I remember of yesterday. It is surprising that what I do remember is so sharp that I can smell and taste and touch things.
But what I will remember most I think is waking up thinking bugs crawled on me, and seeing that expression in Mark’s face. And hearing those oh so weird words: “Good morning. Husband.” I think there must pass a time before I become used to thinking like that. The words still feels odd, strange, unused. Husband. The first thing Mark said to me (after the hubby thing) was a joke. “Now we’ll have to see about getting those babies.”
Somehow I don’t think that is going to work for us, at least not if we do things the old-fashioned way. I’m very happy and eager to use empirical trials to test out the hypothesis that it is impossible, and if the hypothesis is falsified, then we will have done true science. And that makes it all right, doesn’t it? It’s all for science and the betterment of man’s understanding of the universe. No, children will not spawn in any way until after university, but I could very well become a parent together with Mark.
I’m silly happy at the moment.
I’ll sort out the phones and cameras later, and I’ll update this post if we find any good pictures to post here.