|Miguel and I, drinking to avoid thinking about the impending wedding.|
An entirely new life. Scorched earth, if you will.
It's not really a coffin. You could also say my wedding is like the final balloon that will lift my basket off the ground and take me away to freedom. But we all know I'm far too cynical for this kind of analogy.
What I'm worried about is that the wedding is a confirmation of my alienation from Canada. I really don't live there anymore. I'm far from my friends and family. Getting married to Mexico, with only my (small) family in attendance, underscores the fact that I've left my community and my ties to it are fraying, as is natural with the passage of time.
When you think about it that way all the trappings of a wedding that are supposed to excite you -- the beautiful dress, the honeymoon, the fancy dinner -- seem a little less shiny.
Happily, I'm not worried about my marriage. That's all good. It's everything else. The context. What the hell is happening with my life? How much longer will I be in Mexico? What's going to happen with my career? Am I ever going to live in Canada again?
I'm committing not just to a man but a life.
Someone give me a paper bag already...