Wedding Blues

Hi. Its been a while. But I have been busier then Ricky Martins public relations officer. Plus Cooper Cullen keeps me busy.

Anyhoo, I am in hot, humid and sometimes horrifying Durbs. I came down for a wedding. My cousin's wedding. My cousin who is the same age as me who I grew up with and who managed to bag herself a good rich man and settle down.

You would think that most of the family would be pre occupied with her good fortune....but alas.....I was faced with the Durban equivalent of a Spanish inquisition at which I had to defend my case of why I am still unmarried - and synonomous with that sentiment - unworthy of being alive. Fearing that I was about to be chained and burnt at the stake for commiting the ultimate sin (being single at age 25) I quickly chirped that I was happy to be single and was not concerned with any small town notions of getting bunked up with some misfit just for the sake of it. The fact that in my mind the misfit in question would have to be capable of growing facial hair is something I kept to myself. I was annoyed yes, but not to the point where I was ready to kill half my family by coming out at such a public affair!

Anyway. The wedding was beautiful. My cousin made a heart wrenching speech in which she spoke about her late dad (my moms brother) and I started thinking about how different our lives would have been if things didnt happen that way. I also selfishly though about how our relationship would have remained as tight as it was. The fact that we grew apart is just as much my responsibility as anyones. We were kids and we had some really good memories but I do regret us growing apart. All of the emotions involved made me incredibly sad. Dont get me wrong - I am extremely happy for her. She has married the boy of her dreams (literally - I remember her confessing her undying love of him to me when we were 6). So she really is a living example of fairy tales and dreams and hopes and all things magical and innocent coming true.

But it made me sad for me. It was such a wild, vivid, colourful, loud and festive celebration. Indian weddings are just like the movies. Dramatic, bold and intense. The celebrations last for days - and the fact that so many people are present make it a complete sensory overload.

I will never have that. Never. No matter how acceptable it becomes, no matter how progressive this world gets, no matter what my families reaction is I will never have that. Its not just about being gay. Its also about what you invariably have to give up in the process. I hate it sometimes. Really hate it. I hate being the funny gay friend that can be invited to a ladies night and be seen as one of the girls and who offers relationship advice to everyone else because I am so cool. Im tired of it. I want to be the lead role in someone's life. I want to mean something to someone. I want to celebrate it. I want to celebrate it in a wide, obnoxious, insanely festive way. I want to celebrate with a whole exhibition hall full of people. I want people to be happy for me that I have not just married someone, but that inspite of living in a world full of chaos and invariable transience, I have managed to find someone kind, warm, funny and loving who always has my best interests at heart.

Im alone now and have been for a while. Even if I am able to find someone awesome, I will never be able to celbrate it the way that it was done this last weekend.

Its sad. And it sucks. And its my life. Its my future. I dont want to accept it. But i have to.

Maybe one day it wont feel as raw and exposed as it feels now.

But for now - I am really sad. And I really hate it.