The Relationship Ride

It didn’t start with chaos. It started with a choice.

This is an early moment—one that, in hindsight, says more than I realized at the time.

Temporary Insanity

In case moving in with someone I barely know and considering uprooting my life for him aren’t sufficiently certifiable choices, I find a way to up the insanity ante.

I decide I’m also going to marry him.

Becoming betrothed has always been glaringly absent from my bucket list. I am the queen of the honeymoon phase. I love the magic of first kisses. I love love!

Love isn’t blindness; it’s the complete opposite of such. It’s the ability to see another clearly through the eyes of the soul, beyond personality, projection, and past experiences. The blindness part sets in when we start seeing through the lens of ego, and the illusion of separation forces one to become two again.

Once my ego gets hold of the reins, it tends to steer me in the opposite direction of my relationships. It seems like a good time to change that. If I refocus soon, I will publish a book to help others navigate relationships more easily. Isn’t it time to stick around when things start to feel messy with one of my own?

I’ve decided to see this one through, come what may. I trust my ability to focus primarily on the abundant good in this man and the higher purpose of our connection. I trust we’re both evolved enough to support one another through whatever challenges arise and get through them together.

An even higher reason inspires my first marriage proposal. I’m a giver by nature; if there’s a way to improve someone else’s life, I usually make that choice, sometimes at my own expense. The musician already has my love, a love so strong it wants to provide another priceless gift: a green card.

I empathize with how tough his life in the US has been without one and how much he’s struggled for over a decade in this country. I can’t imagine life without the rights I take for granted here. I can make life easier for him and his daughter, and even if we don’t last forever as a couple, we’ll always be friends.

I can think of no good reason not to help in this manner—other than the completely obvious one: that I’ve known him for about eight seconds. Still, not offering would feel like owning a castle and not letting anyone else stay there.

Inspiration arrives as we enjoy a romantic dinner at a restaurant from his country of origin. I express my offer instantaneously before I have a chance to think myself out of it.

His face lights up like a child’s on Christmas morning. His eyes fill with tears, but then his expression goes blank. He looks down and begins to play with a straw wrapper. Uh oh.

“I have something to confess,” he says, his eyes avoiding the piercing gaze of mine.

I’m not certain I want to know what it is.