I don't believe in marriage. I never have and I never will. I don't believe it is necessary for women in 2015. Except the gays. They should get married. There is something about the romanticism of tradition that makes so much sense when you fight just to love. Loving women came so effortlessly to me that it makes sense that I should want to spend the rest of my life with one. I'm just not there yet. Having said all of that, here is a narcissistic tale about my friend getting married and it is all my fault.
A few years ago, after rekindling a friendship with my high school best friend, I introduced her to a co-worker. There is no altruism involved here at all. I am admittedly and unabashedly, a sick fuck. I needed my dear friend to leave me alone. After years of not speaking to each other, within minutes of being friends again, she started to follow me around like a puppy. It made me very uncomfortable. It was very similar to my high school boyfriend telling me he wanted to fuck me all the time, except she never outwardly said it. There were shenanigans and whispers and some such that it had to come to an end. At 35 and still a virgin, I thought a boyfriend would be good for her. So, when my co-worker said he was looking for a girlfriend, I jumped at the chance and introduced them. They met and the rest is history. Or so I thought.
It became quickly evident my friend was now dating my co-worker to make me happy. She lost her virginity to him before marriage to make me happy. This did nothing to her apparent lack of self-control when around me. She still found excuses to touch me. Still wrote me things. Still bought me random presents. I avoided her at all costs. She was with him at least 6 months and still couldn't keep her hands off me. Something had to give. I had to break up with her.
So I met up with her one day and said we needed to talk. I asked her if she wanted to tell me something. She said she loved her boyfriend. I asked her a bunch of questions and she gave me one answer: she loved her boyfriend. I started to feel violent towards her whenever she was around. That's how she made me feel. I reminded her that she is not my girlfriend. I told her she made me feel uncomfortable and I could not be around her anyone. She cried. I needed to leave. She told me she needed to use the restroom and please don't leave. I waited for her outside and she was relieved to see I was still there. She asked me for a hug and she rubbed her hands all up and down my back. I pushed her off of me and said "that's exactly what I have been saying" and she said "please don't stop talking to me".
She is getting married. To that oblivious boyfriend. He knows we don't speak anymore and has never asked her why. Talk about wanting to believe what's in front of you. He is planning the whole wedding alone. I asked him if he is concerned that she is showing zero interest in planning her own wedding and he said no. He has picked the color theme: YELLOW. She is Asian and is now under the misapprehension that she should wear a yellow fucking wedding dress. He has picked the venue: somewhere in a park in NY for the reception. He has picked the menu: hamburgers and hot dogs. What woman gets married in a yellow dress and feeds her wedding guests hot dogs? The only thing she has decided was that she doesn't want to spend any fucking money to marry her beloved. I feel like I should put a stop to this. This is all my fault.
Jess and I talk about our Wedding Prom we plan to throw all of the time. Dress to the nines, feast on fine food and drink and no future divorce on the books. We are equally excited. Suits are virtually picked out already. Never in our wildest dreams did we imagine the lackluster enthusiasm coming from a straight bride-to-be that I am dealing with here. I don't know how to set things right. This feels like a freight train that has lost control. I don't know what's right in this situation. All I know is this: I am a very proud lesbian who has never hidden her sexuality. My friend is why I don't believe in marriage. If you can't get up for your own wedding prom and it's for real, I don't know how I could have helped this pickle in the first place.
