It took five years for my boyfriend to convince me that marriage might be an okay thing.

I had never pictured myself getting married. I hate white dresses. Not a big fan of dresses in general. I want nothing to do with diamonds and the whole idea of being engaged definitely did (and does) not appeal to me. He, on the other hand, had always envisioned getting married.

About a year into our relationship I told him that if he proposed I would break up with him. Sounds dramatic but, really, I just hated the idea of being surprised by such a huge question and then being put on the spot to make such a huge decision. This is not to say that I don’t understand the draw of the proposal for some people. I think it can be incredibly romantic and sweet and it makes some folks really, really happy.

For me, I’d prefer to be the one proposing. Scratch that, what I would really prefer is a conversation. You know, “Do you want to get married? Is that interesting/appealing to you?” Something like that.

Marriage ain’t no joke. It’s what “bwings us togeder today…dat bwessed awangment, dat dweam wifin a dweam…” Sorry. Couldn’t help it. The Princess Bride clergyman will never be outdone.

I was saying…marriage…it’s a (theoretically) serious commitment by TWO (usually) people. As in, this is not something to be entered into alone. You should really talk about that shit before you make the decision to do it.

I mean, I think that when people propose they’re pretty confident in their partners’ answer. And, for others, there has even been a conversation about it — probably a sort of vague, roundabout one.

We can’t really remember how it all went down. We were sitting in our living room. It was a Saturday or a Sunday and we’d just finished a late brunch at home (huevos rancheros, maybe?) We were sipping bloody mary’s and one of us brought it up. Which one? We can’t remember. Not because we were drunk. Just because, well, it doesn’t really matter.

“You wanna get married?” someone asked.

“Hmm. I don’t know, do you?” the other responded.

“I mean, sure. Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Great even. I mean, I really love you. I think that’s why you get married,” someone said.

“Shit. Okay, yeah. YEAH! This is awesome. I’m in. I really love you, too,” the other replied.

“Right. And, we’ve talked about the commitment part. It’s us. For good. Or, at least for a good long time.”

“Yeah, and our lives are already totally entangled. I mean, we bought a turntable and a t.v. together. We’ll have to talk about who gets what in the divorce.”

The next day we went to Tiffany’s and picked out simple gold bands. He paid for mine and I paid for his. If you’ve ever been to Tiffany’s (which we hadn’t) it’s a whole experience. I mean, they don’t mess around. We figured we’d splurge on the rings and bequeath them to our offspring. It may be the only thing of value they inherit.

A classic gold ring. I’m not sure there’s a better heirloom to pass down. I got a gold band (years later) from my great uncle after he passed away. It was engraved October, 1910. Exactly 99 years before we were married.

“When’s the big day?” Adam, the sweet, mild-mannered Tiffany’s employee inquired.

“Oh, we’re getting married. We’re not having a wedding. We’re just doing the whole, you know, marriage part. Skipping the rest,” we responded.

“I see,” he said. We regretted it immediately. Couldn’t we have come up with some wonderful lie? The poor guy didn’t know what to talk about. Clearly, his entire conversational repertoire was reliant upon people having, like, real weddings!

“Are you pregnant?” my principal asked upon my return to work. “Is that why you snuck off and got married last week?”

“Nope. Not allowed to ask that, Eileen. But, nope. Not pregnant. Just married,” I responded.

“But. What about the wedding? What about your families?” she continued. “Won’t they be mad?”

As it turned out there were a few people in our lives who were a bit sad. Not mad, just bummed to miss the moment. You know, that beautiful ‘I do’ moment. But, they got over it and we threw a party a year later. No fuss, no stress, just a big celebration so everyone could come together and eat and drink and dance.

It was perfect. For us.