Talking to my dad yesterday about the utter destruction of my sister's marriage he asked how things were going with me and M-.
I said we were going strong and he said something like, 'You two will be screaming at each other like all the rest.’
‘Uh, no,’ I said. ‘I think I'm doing pretty well here; we actually talk. We're honest.’
Dad snorted. ‘Honest. I’m honest.’
‘Whatever, Dad. M- and I actually talk about how we feel and we don’t wait for shit to blow up before we do. I know exactly why I’m in this relationship and so does he. If that changes anytime soon it won’t be the end of the world for us.’
‘We’ll see,’ Dad said.
It’s funny; Dad has seen how repressive and strangling the conventional rules of marriage are, and have been for a lot of people. He even admits it. But it’s a weird sort of reflex to not only see people conform to that convention, but see them twist in it and suffer. Maybe that's a Baptist thing. For all that the folks I went to church with clapped and congratulated each other for marrying, they practically salivated with pleasure when those marriages cracked and crumbled.
There was this strange mentality: 'You thought you were so special. So different. But you're not. You're just as miserable as I am. You're no different.'
This must be a black Baptist thing. Yeah.
In any case, I refuse to conform to it. And then people can marvel at my unconventional happiness.
As well as kiss my ass.
In related news - related to my sister's marriage and my and M-'s relationship - I had been thinking that this would be the summer I bring a boy home. Yeah, sort of a big thing. But not really. Folks go on trips all the time!
But with the destructin of my sister's marriage, where the hell will we stay?!
Yeah. It's all about me. It IS!