to my sister

dear jane,

today T got married. it was the lowest-key wedding i've ever seen. and as for the kissing (let's be honest, that's where the marriage's hat hangs), it only happened once and they seemed utterly unready, disconcerted by the necessity and uncomfortable with the act. C was as upbeat and giddy as i have ever seen him, while T seemed dazed...no, not dazed, more like entranced, like she wasn't really seeing things at all. there wasn't any dancing at the reception.

it made me think of what will happen when you get married, how will it feel to watch you turn the key in the lock. with T and C, i felt both relieved and apprehensive. i can't help thinking that their relationship seems to lack fun--it seems so serious and intense all the time. but beyond that...they are, after all, both of them serious and intense people, so maybe they enjoy relating that way...seeing my friend get married is a strange thing. she has this one friend now whom she's known less time than she's known me, who has hurt her and made her insecure in unique, innovative ways, but whom she wants to spend all the rest of her time with.

you know how dad says that opposites ought to marry, because they balance each other out? respectfully, i disagree, at least with making that a general rule. it seems reasonable if someone's personality is heavily weighted...let us make a rule, that narcissists should marry avoidants. but most people are struggling along to fit into as many places as they can, not quite sure of where they belong. finding a second self is wonderfully balancing--it lets you know that you're not a deviant, that birds of your feather can survive.

by the way, my hair smells nice today. i went out and bought the same shampoo that on of the girls on my hall, in college, gave to me two winters ago--she worked at the body shop and got lots of free stuff she never used. i haven't worked out what the fragrance is, exactly--it's heavy on the existential crisis mixed with a lot of desperate optimism, faint suggestions of immortality, confidence and smugness, with a lingering aftertaste of impotent, nonspecific regret. it smells like amateur drama, like weekend dance parties, like unexpected conversations, like last-minute studying, like the sweet release of afternoon when class is done for the day, like desperate crushes on boys masquerading as men. let us call the scent "nostalgia."

you will marry someone smart, observant, and quiet--possibly one who could be mistaken for a nerd, if he weren't surprisingly good at some very manly thing, like basketball or carpentry. he will be subtly demonstrative of his affection for you in public. he will have dry wit for general consumption, and a silly undercurrent revealed to a select few. he will be unaggressively assertive, he will share your taste in music (i won't have much to say to him on that score, but we'll find other things to talk about), and he will remember your birthday and anniversary.

you deserve to marry someone like you.
love.