so on march 2, 2011, my lady and i decided to make things “official” at the city clerk’s office in downtown manhattan.
i’m sure there are a lot of people who think we are just two codependent nutjobs who don’t know what else to do with themselves.
fuck those people. fuck them hard and unpleasantly with their jealousy and mean spirited words.
this girl and i have gone through some dirty nasty shit like for real ya’ll. in our seven years together, our behavior has in many ways mimicked the dynamic between whitney houston and bobby brown. the “alleged” behavior that is…
::in whitney voice:: Bboobbbaaayyyy, Bobby, BbBbbBboooBBBaaayyyy. C’mon now lock the door!
yet for every time i’ve felt like bobby and whitney, we turn around and dance cheek to cheek like heathcliff and claire huxtable. she is my person. i am hers.
so this is love doobie doo…
and this is real life, our real life and this is how we live it.
first of all, we are not rich and we’re both women of color. I’m Puerto Rican and she’s of mixed race, which in layman’s terms means: she’s a little black and a little white and all sorts of pretty.
we’ve got a roof over our head and food in our stomachs…and maybe a little bud. so i can’t complain but damn if i don’t dream for just a few steps up financially.
but even in being poor, it’s like me and her against the world. we struggle to make ends meet with each other. it feels romantic sometimes. lots of the time. on some trey songz “gotta make it” and now i’m listening to that song like a nerd and it’s just me and her all over again. like it should be…
so back to domestic partnership and clerk offices…
it’s strange knowing i’ve registered with the government as a homosexual. what if shit goes crazy and they want to start rounding up brown fags? and cafe con leche colored dykes?!
i’m fucked. we’re fucked. but then again, i have been known to be a little suspicious of the government and a little too quick to embrace lunacy.
but on to the kisses and giggles, right?
our ticket number is A162 and the ticker is up to A140. The Mayor’s news ticker within the ticker assures us that the wait time is only 6mins. Sweet. In and out. Bada boom and whatnot.
We were the only same sex couple in a gigantic Oz size corridor of people getting hitched. we sat in a room full of what americans look like these days. mixed races, the youthful and willful, old couples getting their last licks in and countless worried looking mothers looking over their young and adding new members to their brood, all with the rightful documentation from good old Uncle sam.
A handful of couples were young newlyweds, dressed up and gleefully excited. Most of those young newlyweds were either already knocked up or rolling with children in tow, not to judge but you know that’s how we do shit these days. meet. f*ck. dont use protection. oops a baby. cool a baby. you don’t suck so bad. wanna get hitched? haha
but real talk, cute kids in wedding clothes? actually, yes, please and thank you.
it was all really quite wonderful. as we waited, i felt like a spectator for other’s peoples happiest/craziest/ moment in their life…or maybe that was just me adding romance to a government sanctioned contract.
we held hands. the anxiety of going downtown and making things official made our morning a bit of a firestorm, if you will. we still made it. finally, together, in one piece, in love and calm. i’d never felt that calm sitting next to her. she always makes me a little jumpy. i like it. i hate sitting still or feeling stunted. it’s never like that next to her.
yet we were calm, holding each other and ready for the next step. the proof that we exist in this world as a union. the proof that now no hospital in new york can ever bar me from seeing her cuz that shit still happens. and yo what if babygirl ends up in jail?? now i can hold down wifey from behind bars and get my conjugal visit on. ya dig? hahahaha
i see now though why we are fighting so hard for marriage equality. like this domestic partner thing is amazing. it’s exactly where we should be right now. positive. in love. etc.
but honestly, i just want to be able to say,”we’re married” and not have to explain all the legal nuances.
all of the tax breaks, insurance coverages and straight up recognition that marriage provides would be so nice, would help us gain a little extra peace of mind…is that too much to ask for?
marriage equality seems like such a simple concept. i don’t wanna make anyone feel uncomfortable or have them agree with how i live.
i just want to be able to live as recognized couples do.
so right now we can’t. right now new york affords us a few small rights and for that i must give thanks.
for something, cuz sometimes you get nothing…and i’ve got way more than that with or without someone legalizing my lesbian love thang.
i’ve got my lady. my partner in crime. my ride or die.
::insert hip hop cliche for woman you love like no other::
she is my person.
a woman named Divinia registered us as the city clerk’s office. she smiled, congratulated us and shook our hands. she welcomed us into the registry and blessed our partnership.
Divinia sanctioned our union in a place that looked like Oz. i got the tingles. we beamed light saber grins of love. a little magic shot through both of us.
that’s what getting “married” is supposed to feel like, right?
that’s what it felt like for us.