“As if…”

A friend of mine is taking the big step of moving in with her boyfriend. Once her rural house sells, the two of them will begin the mighty urban house hunt to find a home to share. Her boyfriend is divorced with two nearly grown kids, but this is my friend’s first attempt at cohabitation. When the marriage question comes up, she artfully tosses it aside with, “I’m boycotting marriage until gays can marry. It’s only fair.”

I applaud her pro gay marriage stance, even though we both smile knowing in this conversation she is playfully using it as a means to conceal a bit of caution regarding her own relationship. While she’s not cementing her union at this time with a legal ceremony, I still think she and her boyfriend deserve to be celebrated. After all, moving in together is a big step. So, I’m pushing her to register, buy rings, and throw a party “As if…

Yes, as if they got married. Only didn’t.

“This is the perfect ‘As if…’ ring,” I say, pushing her towards a beautiful display case in a high-end gift store on her recent visit to L.A. from Seattle.

“How much?” she asks.

“$345,” the salesperson responds.

“Oh, if we’re getting rings, I’m gonna hit my boyfriend up for more than that!” my friend smiles. I can see she is getting with the program.

As I point out the lovely dishes and coffee table books, glass vases and condiment accessories, my friend retreats. “I don’t want friends spending money on us.”

“What?” I challenge. “You’ve been there for all our romantic adventures. Wedding gifts. Baby showers. Now it’s your turn. When you two buy your house, you deserve to get all the cool stuff. Throw the party, and I’m on the first plane to toast you.”

As if… I like it.

Some may argue that my friend isn’t taking a deep enough plunge to earn the gifts, but I disagree. Too often we come together to help a friend in need when tragedy arises and life gives us a reason to feel sad. But here I am pitching for a reason to share joy.

My friend, inching towards fifty, confessed that she’s battled depression for most of her life. Now, partnered for three years with a loving boyfriend, that feeling has become a distant memory. If that’s not worthy of a ring and new dishes and a champagne toasting party, I don’t know what is.

And if you’re eager to push her towards a wedding, just start lobbying for gay marriage. That way we can all celebrate.


Kristie said...

for some people moving in together is as far as they get. SO why not celebrate? I think its a fabulous idea you have there.

Emily said...

celebrate, celebrate...the ways that makes her happiest! whether it's dishes or rings or other non-traditional things. love should be celebrated!

Willie Baronet said...

I love everything about this post. :-)

Anonymous said...

Up front on a confessional note this article is about me- the male side of the relationship. Hi DZ. Anywho, it is a big deal to "shack-up" as one has the constant presence of the ohter's posessions while at home nudging and tugging their posessor to mind - if the person themself happens to not be around. But I would concur that the real cause of celebration is a life lit up and the greyness of depression ousted for the kaleidiscopic color array and surge of pupose and heaviness that was come along. Nice to be a partner in that but the subject in depression in this instance deserves much credit for choices made, yes maybe even about me.