On taking the long way.

I got sad this morning listening to Question. Not one of those stabbing, painful sadnesses, just a quiet, immersive melancholy, the kind that stills you, pulls your breath in deep and unfocuses your eyes.

And I wondered why, why this song could reach so deep and tug at strings long buried. (After all, those of you that know me should know by now that I'm not the best at accessing and understanding what goes on in my own head.) So I did what I usually do; I brought it up to the Animal. And she felt the same, felt like the song spoke of a beauty in our lives that's come and gone.

"Someday somebody's gonna ask you
A question that you should say 'yes' to
Once in your life."

I had that moment, after a steak dinner and a walk on the beach, on one knee in our shitty third-floor walkup in Ocean City, a quizzical Alistair in my hands as I asked a woman to marry me. A month later we were married in a gazebo in the park, the ink of Pavel's signature drying on the certificate, her mother holding up her cell phone with her father on the line so he could be there.

A year later was our wedding. My nearest and dearest on the beach between First and St. James, Pericles officiating in his black robe, Pavel with the rings. It was a day of laughter and joy, of a happiness I'd store in my mind palace for the rest of my days. There was a finality to it, a peace in knowing that a part of my life was complete. One less thing to worry about.

But things don't always turn out the way you'd hope. Life doesn't always happen the way the songs and movies tell you it should. Situations change. And just like that, that storybook moment is gone, never to be claimed again.

And one day, with any luck, I'll ask a woman the same question I'd asked before. And my friends and family will swing in from the four corners again, smiles on their faces and chuckles in their breath, saying I throw a good wedding. And it won't be the same. Whatever eldritch shine there is won't beat in my blood like it did. Because it didn't happen just once in my life.

I don't regret anything. I'd do it all the same again if I had to. And I'd be right back here, smiling as I listened to a silly old song, maybe a little down that things didn't work out the way I wanted it to, and happy for those who still have that chance.