Trusting in love, anger and destiny

Exactly 22 years, one month and one day ago, a young couple were preparing a meal in readiness to entertain their friends. It was a hot November night. The friends were on their way, travelling from the beach. They would be arriving soon. They were coming to celebrate a number of November birthdays and to catch up before Christmas. Friends, a newly married couple, travelling from their new beach home to the inner city studio where this young couple, a photographer, who believed in his art, and a writer, who had turned her back on her art, were living. Living in love.

Somehow, in the ordinariness of chopping vegetables and marinating meat, the conversation turned. Turned into dangerous territory. The young writer was convinced her beau was lying to her about something. The young photographer denied it. Repeatedly. The young writer, trusting her instincts, pushed. Trying to convince the young photographer nothing bad would happen if he simply told the truth. That truth was better than lies. The conversation went back and forth as dinner was prepared. Denial, as salt and herbs were added to the meat. Conviction for truth, as celery and cucumber were chopped for the salad. With everything ready, they finally sat at the table, facing one another, each drinking a glass of cool water in the heat, as the conversation increased in intensity and urgency. The photographer finally buckled and confirmed his former dishonesty. The young writer instantly went back on her word, and threw a glass of water in his face as she spat words of great anger towards him.

And so was the beginning of my marriage proposal. And here I am 22 years married today, reminiscing this old tale.

Not long after I threw water into my love’s face our guests arrived. A couple who were old friends of his, who he had known for a very long time. I had met them many times before and enjoyed their company. But I was struggling this night, as I failed to hide my anger. While they sat at the table making small talk with me, and my love avoided my company by making himself busy in the kitchen, the heat of the day evaporated and an icy chill filled the room. A chill of desperate anger and hurt. Of urgent disappointment and disbelief. From both parties. It was unbearable. And so, I did something I had never done before, and have never done since. I asked our guests to leave.

I explained that we, their hosts, had argued and fought just minutes before their arrival. I did not share the details. I did not tell them about the water throwing incident. I simply said we could not pretend to be something we were not, in that moment. We could not pretend to be a happy couple entertaining friends, when really, we were two people who wanted to rip each other’s eyes out. Our friends looked shocked at first, and disappointed. But agreed to leave (perhaps fearing for their own eyes). And as my love saw them to the door one of the most significant things in my life happened. One of our guests with one foot out the door, straddling the threshold, hand on the door handle and ready to leave, paused. Giving space to the moment, he turned to us and said, ‘Remember, their isn’t anything that cannot be worked out.’ And with that, he stepped outside, shut the door and was gone. And so too was the icy anger. It was like he sucked it out that door with him as he closed it.

We stared at the door as our anger deflated. We sat down. Our fighting defeated. And talked.

Eighteen months before this night of deceit, trickery, turning guests away and wise words, we were living in a different studio planning our wedding. A secret no one knew about. We had agreed on a joint best man, a fitting title for my love’s best friend, who came as a package deal with my betrothed, almost like an extra set of arms to help out, or an extra movie companion. We both adored him. He was the only one who would know about our wedding plans. A surprise for all the rest as we invited them onto a yacht, which we would hire through another friend, under the pretence of celebrating my love’s birthday. During festivities we would get married, there and then. A delightful surprise. Or so we thought. No more than four weeks after sitting and planning this life changing event, we were met with an unforeseeable tragedy, of losing our best man, my love’s best friend, to a car accident. From that day on, neither of us ever spoke or thought of our wedding plans every again. The plans simply disappeared silently into our broken hearts.

Anger is an emotion that requires action. A change. And so, after turning our friends away from the planned dinner, we made a decision which changed the course of our lives together. We rekindled our desire to marry once more. The grief of our loss still with us, we decided it was only fitting to simply elope. To get married on our own. There was no point in having anyone else there if our best man couldn’t make it. And so, the next day, after spending the morning swimming and surfing at a beautiful secluded beach, we returned to our studio, looked up a celebrant and rode our bicycles to her office, me in my sarong and my love in his board shorts. Starry-eyed, full of love and naivety, and with sand still between our toes, we asked to be married. That moment. At once. Only to be met with kind laughter and a gentle explanation that we were not in Las Vegas, that you could not simply be married on the day (by an Elvis impersonator, although I would have liked one), for you see, there are rules in Australia. Marriage is a licence. And in our country, it comes with a four week ‘cooling off’ period. We were astonished. Shocked. Disappointed and almost insulted. Our commitment to each other did not need a four week ‘cooling off’ period. We were in love, couldn’t she see that. Wasn’t it obvious to everyone as it was to us? We needed to be with each other, forever. We didn’t need four weeks to think about it. Beaten by the system, we signed the paperwork and jumped back on our bikes and headed home, a little wiser about the contract laws of our nation.

Love is an emotion which requires celebration. And so we did. Four weeks after our bike ride to the celebrant we were married. My husband-to-be set up the studio so we could do our own pre and post ceremony photographs. Just the two of us. In our jeans and t-shirts before the ceremony. In our wedding attire afterwards. The celebrant and our witnesses arrived. We said our vows. They left. More photos. We changed back into our jeans and t-shirts, packed a picnic basket and headed to the river. We lay on the river bank, newly married, staring at the clouds and thinking of a lifetime of love and happiness together. My husband surprised me with a magnolia flower from a nearby tree, my wedding bouquet (which ended up hanging up for years in our porch area, upside down to dry, on a hook on the wall, a reminder of our special wedding day, which we saw each morning as we left for work and as we arrived home each night). After our picnic we headed back to our studio, had a cup of tea while we played a game of scrabble, before we put on some of our finest clothes and caught a train into the city for a special dinner. We were selfishly in love and kept the day all to ourselves. Celebrating with family weeks later and surprising our friends when we returned from our honeymoon holiday as we announced our marriage at our house-warming party. Greeting our guests with a glass of champagne, big smiles and a ‘we’re married’. Which in return received bigger smiles, hugs, congratulations and more champagne.

Somehow, my husband and I stumbled into each other in life. Through twists and turns, love, laughter and heartbreak, we ended up making a commitment and investment in each other, for ever. We said our vows, we exchanged rings. We promised to stand by each other through good times and through the hard times. And we have.

We were meant to be. We were, and are, each other’s destiny. So here we are, 22 years later, celebrating our wedding anniversary. Remembering the wise words of our dear friend to get us through our disagreements in life. Trusting in each other, and in love, anger and destiny, which has served us well thus far, to lead us through the years to come.