my friend leslie is getting married in 22 days. she will be married on the washington coast, in a community center. i will wear a black dress and silver art deco earrings, whatever that means. i am assured all of the whiskey i can handle will be present. by night’s end, they will be legally married, by me, their officiant, reverend jeanine.
the legal part of this was easy. the writing 5-10 minutes of meaningful content to say in front of their choice family and friends is much less easy. mostly, because, i guess, i don’t give a shit about love, which, i guess, is how i’ve got where i’m going.
to be fair, i am the most in love i have ever been, and it’s with myself and my life and the state of montana. with conservation corps and the greater yellowstone ecosystem. with 4-wheel drive and mountain drives. with copenhagen loose cut and local ipa. with sunsets on the hill in town and punk rock and punishing, solo hikes. chainsaw parts and dirt and sore muscles.
when i think about love, i think about the fact that i can pack everything i own into my car and drive through the night and live somewhere else whenever i want. i can do it smartly and confidently. it makes my heart swell.
i broke up with my last boyfriend because he said he loved me, and it freaked me out, and i didn’t feel the same way, and i didn’t want to wait until we were on the same page. how in the fuck am i supposed to write a wedding right now?