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Said We Could
wanted to get married from the day we moved in together. Of
course, the first few years we were together, we couldn't get married.
We could have a commitment ceremony, which was a heavy term our friends
used for a party where a gay couple said vows.
Now we could get married, with a license
and a J.P., and whatever else our meager income allowed us to come up
with. So, I asked Jullie to marry me, and she said yes, and danced
around the living room, and made love that night like it was the last
We went to city hall and got a license,
then found a J.P. to do the ceremony in our living room. Days passed. I
asked her several times how we should plan our wedding day, Julie
decided she wanted just her and me and the justice there. I thought
that was odd, considering how many years she had waited for us to be
able to legally marry, but I didn't disagree.
I found Julie growing more distant. She
couldn't decide what to do after the ceremony to celebrate. She didn't
know what she would wear. She started biting her nails again. She
started sleeping on the edge of the bed farthest from me.
The morning of the ceremony she was very
sullen. I finally had to find out what was happening.
"What's wrong honey?" I asked.
She shrugged and shook her head.
"I don't want to get married," she said.
"What?" I said, nearly gasping.
" I don't want to get married," she
repeated. "I don't want to be married."
"Why? You've always wanted to..."
"I don't want to anymore," she said
"But... why? What's happened?"
She looked up at me, with an angry
stare, as if I should guess what she was thinking.
"Because now we can!" she yelled at me.
"They said we can, and it's all legal and everything, and now it isn't
I sat down on the edge of the bed. Julie
got up as soon as I sat down. She went into the bathroom, and slammed
Liz Moura lives in a converted distillery in New England. A former journalist, she now works with elders in a small town.
Her poetry has appeared in Presence, Chrysanthemum, Ardea, Shamrock Haiku Journal and other online publications.
front page image is copyright ©
by Anthony Kitterick, 2012