Too Many Words on Things That Don’t Matter to the Rest of the World
So this Memorial Day Weekend, I saw my family for the first time in 8 weeks and attended my cousin’s wedding. This cousin is practically like an older sister to me. There are home videos of toddler me hitting and abusing her 8-year-old self back in my Hayward house. There are hilarious stories, the details of which I will not go into (if you are interested, you can ask me ^^). All this time I’ve known her as a goofy, silly, crude person fitting in perfectly into the goofiness/vulgarity that is me, my siblings, and cousins. Even though she’s a good 7-8 years older than me, it seems as if we’re the same age, just kids. It’s really weird to think of her as a married woman now.
She’s the youngest out of 6 children and her aunt (my dad’s older sister) was like my second mom growing up. I got to see her brothers and sisters, some whom I haven’t seen in ages. I suppose it was a milestone in our family the day that she got married - the youngest of the biggest family in our family. If that makes sense. All the women looked beautiful in their joy and all the men looked handsome in their congratulations.
What I remember clearly is their first dance at the reception. Up till then, all the music had been traditional Khmer music (going with tradition) but for this dance my cousin had been adamant. She chose the song “I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz. It was a more than fitting choice. While I was watching them slow dance, I was struck by how lovely they looked together, glowing with happiness just for each other. I’ve been to many many weddings but maybe I was too young to notice or care. That was the first time a wedding had struck me so.
I left for Davis on Saturday and when my family returned to Tracy, they went to my aunt’s house to say goodbye to my cousin’s sister and her husband, who had flown in from New Zealand for the wedding. My sister told me later that night that everyone cried. Even my parents, and my parents never cried for anything like that before. Was it because the baby of their family had finally been wedded off? Was it because my cousin who was going back to New Zealand wouldn’t see her family again before she was due to give birth in July? Our family isn’t prone to get emotional. And I was disappointed I couldn’t be there to take part in such a rare moment.
I never saw the appeal in marriage. I barely know myself entirely, much less other people. To handle the responsibility of two minds that are equally unpredictable is a formidable prospect. Friends are surprised when I say I don’t see marriage or children in my future. I suppose I’m less averse to the thought of marriage than I am at the thought of children. If I find someone who I consider to be worth the suffering, then I might forsake all the reasoning I spout. As of now, though, it is inconceivable to me. I know of people my age getting engaged or getting married and it completely escapes me. Even though I don’t understand, I respect their choices.
Noticing that happiness this past weekend shakes me. What kind of happiness do you get from getting involved with someone so intimately in such a way? I’m not even talking about just marriage, but when you decide to engage in any sort of intimate relationship with someone else. The joy and pain I’ve experienced in my lifetime are roughly the same color. I can’t deny that I’m curious.
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