We’re Married
I think it was around 8th grade when i first felt it, that quiet ache in the back of my mind that something was missing. It’s impossible to describe someone you’ve never met. You might have an idea, but not a clear picture, like trying to recall small details from a dream.
And then I met Nicole. I saw her in action and it was like watching my imagination take shape, except unlike my blurry daydreams, here she was in the flesh, full of details my mind had never quite managed to render. It was as if my subconscious had been quietly sketching her all along, offering me only a glimpse, a faint outline. As if she’d been coexisting in some parallel layer of my mind, just waiting for the right moment to materialize.
And when she did, I recognized her instantly.
She is rarely the center of attention, but if people could see past themselves, they would see in her a glow that most people only notice when shit has hit the fan. Besides her glow, it’s her charming disorder in which she moves through life that i Love the most. Such as…
Like the mess she leaves after cooking,.
Or how she manages to get food on her forehead, her eyelid, her chin while cooking
Or how she saws through carrots with a serrated steak knife instead of using a chef’s knife.
Or how she always forgets to replace the empty toilet paper roll.
Or how there’s always one bite of food left on her plate.
Or how i can find her by simply following the trail of crumbs
Or how she showers faster than I do but never quite dries off completely, so that her shirt ends up soaking wet afterward.
Or how, after “drying off”, she shoves the towel into the drying rack all crumpled up, so the twisted parts never actually dry.
Or how she never screws on the toothpaste cap, just balances it on top, so when I grab it, it falls, bouncing into the sink.
Or how everything she touches ends up with a thin, oily residue.
All of these are things that thoroughly annoy me, yet deep down, when i get out of the way,
I love every one of them.
Because it’s in these small, maddening quirks that the magic lives. That she becomes my guru, challenging me to let go of efficiency and systemizing everything. Inviting me to spend more time on the romantic island of “isness” and to catch a glimpse of the fleeting moment. She offers me a front-row seat to the beauty of chaos and unpredictability. Pulling me out of my world and into hers, one where a half-dried towel and a smudge of sauce on her cheek aren’t problems to be solved, but poetry in motion. Her imperfections are my perfection and I get to see it everyday.
A Wedding with No Fanfare
The day we got married arrived quietly. No dramatic music, no groomsmen slamming brewski’s or bridesmaids doing each other's make-up. We got dressed in our modest sublet, just the two of us, while the quiet hum of we’re getting married today buzzed softly in the background.
We didn’t have a car, so we walked to the nearest bus stop. A light drizzle started, so we ducked under an awning. People passed by on their way to work or errands, completely unaware that we were about to go get married. Just another Tuesday to them. It didn’t look like any one even noticed.
The bus ride to the Bern civil registry office was short. We met Nicole’s sister and her husband outside, the entirety of our wedding party. Getting married in Bern’s registry office is a no-frills experience. Pale walls, mass-produced furniture, the occasional shit IKEA print on the wall, and the scent of bureaucracy.
The official who led the ceremony looked exactly as you'd expect: khakis, budget button-down and the air of a man who works a 9-5 office job.
Because I didn’t understand German, I was legally required to hire a translator. She sat between us, quietly echoing the official’s words in English. The first half of the script felt more like a legal warning than a romantic prelude, detailing all the penalties for entering a fraudulent marriage, including prison time, steep fines, and a ban from reentering Switzerland.
A wonderful mood-setter.
After firing off several more warning shots in that choppy german cadence, the script turned to the actual marriage part. We shared a simple, sincere moment followed by a formal kiss and a shared glance that said, We did it.
A Chariot, a Surprise, a Celebration
Nicole’s sister had secretly orchestrated the rest of the day. The moment we stepped outside, we were met with a 1964 chevy impala. A cherry red and white metal tank of a vehicle designed for the wide open roads of America, not the tight cobblestone corners of medieval Bern.
Heads turned. Smiles bloomed. Behind the wheel, Nicole’s uncle would gave the horn a few celebratory honks, drawing even more attention and joy from the pedestrians. We had no idea where we were going, just taking in the ride.
Eventually, we pulled into a park. Waiting for us? Nicole’s whole family, hiding and ready to surprise us with love, hugs, and confetti.
After the photos, we were ushered back in the car towards another unknown destination. This time, we winded through a few narrow residential streets, obstructing traffic with a few Y-turns before we arrived at a small event space where Nicole’s extended family and closest friends were waiting to welcome us into marriage with a celebratory feast.
It was a perfect day. Small, sincere, unexpected and full of the kind of beauty you don’t plan.
